


A Series of Lists

by katrinawritesthings



Series: Biker au [1]
Category: SHINee
Genre: Angst, Aromantic, Asexual, Brotp, Fluff, M/M, Multi, Pansexual, Parent Death, Parent-Child Relationship, Past Child Abuse, Smut, jinki isnt the abusive or dead parent tho lmao dont worry, taemplants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-30
Updated: 2015-03-27
Packaged: 2018-10-20 07:33:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 38,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10657854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katrinawritesthings/pseuds/katrinawritesthings
Summary: So like au where Taemin is a hot biker that comes to stay at Jonghyun's motel every few months with the rest of the gang-9 parts main, everything else is extra and not necessarily in order-Underage only for like two vague handjobs-Also includes jungtaeboon, minkey, lunber-Smut parts will be labeled-If you want all the pics and extra shit to go with it hit up mytumblrlmao





	1. Five times Taemin was intimidating

1  
Jonghyun notices him because he’s new.

He’s from that biker gang that rolls through the motel every month or so; he has to be, because he definitely wasn’t here this morning and they all came in around an hour ago. They’re inside right now, lounging around after lunch, napping in their rooms, fixing up their bikes in the garage. It’s a small group, between six and ten depending on the season, and Jonghyun knows all of their faces (and all of their bikes, which he likes considerably more). This one, though, he doesn’t recognize. He’s thin, the bulky leather jacket doing nothing to disguise his lanky frame, and he has wavy, soft looking blonde hair that parts in the middle and frames his pretty face.

Jonghyun also notices him because he’s different. And… kind of strange. The rest of the gang is relaxing inside, but this new guy is out here in the back. Jonghyun wouldn’t have noticed him if he hadn’t come out here to lug the trash into the dumpsters. This used to be a nice little area with neatly cut grass and a cute little fountain, but for years it’s been kind of dingy and overgrown, the fountain dried up. But still, he’s out here, just… lying in the grass by the back hedges, head in the leaves, taking a nap.

Strange.

Jonghyun stands there, twisting his fingers into his kitchen apron. He knows the faces of the bikers, gets excited when they roar in, wants so badly to just ride a motorcycle even once, to know everything there is to know about life on the bike, but despite how often they come to stay at his and his sister’s little motel on the side of the road, he’s never been on speaking terms with them. He’s not exactly the most outgoing of individuals. He’s just a shy pseudo-adult that’s never been farther than the town down the road and never been brave enough to work as a waiter even when business has been busy. Impressive, he knows. A great resumé for an eighteen-year-old guy that spends all of his free time romanticizing the biker lifestyle and wishing that he could be part of a biker gang, rough and tumble and full of excitement.

He chews on his lip, watching the man sleep in the bushes. He’s new, right? He has to be less accustomed to the biker life. Less likely to be gruff and intimidating. Maybe he could just…. Jonghyun takes a hesitant step forward, then stops himself. It would be rude to just go over there and wake him up. And what if the new guy isn’t friendly? He looks kind of dangerous--but then, so do the rest of the gang, and he caught two of them nerding out over a new Pokémon game last year. Arguably, though, this new one is more dangerous because Jonghyun doesn’t explicitly know if he is or isn’t yet. But still-there is the chance of being able to speak to a biker, to learn more about what it’s like and--

Movement over by the bushes makes Jonghyun pause in his anxious pondering. The biker is moving, shifting in his sleep. Jonghyun scoots back a little bit; the guy’s frowning, a little furrow between his eyebrows as he wiggles on the ground. Obviously he’s not a happy waking up kind of person. Jonghyun should leave. He should leave right now and get back to work because he’s spent too much time standing out here anyway and he has counters to wipe down inside.

He wipes his sweaty hands on his apron and scuttles back to the door, only glancing back at the sleepy biker in the bushes once.

 

2  
Taemin notices him because he’s fucking obvious.

He’s been here with the rest of the group for two and a half days while Sungmin gets ready to leave his family in the little town down the road again, and for two and a half days, the twitchy little cleaning boy has been sneaking out back to peep at him when he thinks Taemin won’t notice. Taemin couldn’t not notice if he tried. And he has been trying. He’s sure that at least thirty percent of the time the boy is coming out here for a reason, but he can’t possibly have to take the trash out so many times per day. All of the other times, he kind of just hovers on the other side of the backyard for a few minutes, peering at Taemin as he tries to relax, before scurrying back inside.

It’s getting really annoying. Like, it’s not like he’s trying to nap here, or anything. It’s obvious that the kid wants to speak to him. He probably wants to ask about how cool and badass Taemin is, but he’s obviously intimidated by how cool and badass he is. It would be amusing if it wasn’t interfering with Taemin’s rest all day. All he wants to do is lie in the grass in this cute little back area and not be around so many people.

The telltale creak of the back door interrupts his sleepy grumbling once again and he sighs. He takes a deep breath, inhales the earthy scent of the grass, shifts to get more comfortable on his back. He’s done with it; he’s done with the hesitant shuffles, the awkward hovering.

“Kid,” he says, just loud enough to be heard. He’s too tired to be shouting across courtyards. He hears a little squeak and snorts, bringing a hand up to rub over his face. He pushes his hair out of his face after, finally cracking his eyes open to peer at the cleaning boy. He’s frozen where he’s standing, wide eyes, pouty little lips, a deer in headlights. Wow. He really thought that Taemin didn’t notice him. Taemin yawns, resting his head on his forearm. “Just come over here already,” he mumbles. He’ll talk to the kid, he’ll answer questions, he’ll do whatever, just as long as he stops fucking around and disturbing his rest for nothing.

He blinks slowly, but not as slowly as the cleaning boy creeps forward, around the dry fountain, through the grass, shuffles to a stop a few feet in front of Taemin. It’s kind of endearing, how shy he is, how he’s curling his fingers into his apron. Taemin pats the empty space of grass next to him; the cleaning boy scoots a millimeter or two closer and sits down there. Taemin snorts. Close enough.

On closer inspection, and on an actual scan of his looks, the kid is actually pretty cute. He’s young; Taemin is just over sixteen, so this guy has to be fifteen, early sixteen at most. He’s got big, expressive eyes half hidden by his black hair, a round nose, a defined jawline, black studs in his ears, and dark, suntanned skin. He sits with a quiet shyness but also a silent air of determination, like he was the one that decided to come sit here on his own.

His nametag reads “Jonghyun.”

 

3  
The gang is still at the motel for a third day, Jonghyun notes as he peers out of the kitchen door in the morning. A small group of the earlier risers are lounging in the dining area, waiting for their breakfast orders to come through. Kibum is bustling around by the stove cooking everything up with Ryeowook and Jonghyun’s kind of just there toasting bread, poking at the bacon, helping out while he waits for more dishes to wash. It’s just the few bikers and couple of sleepy businessmen today, so he has some time to waste before everyone’s toast burns.

Taemin isn’t there. Jonghyun wouldn’t say that he’s surprised; he got the feeling that the biker wasn’t a morning person yesterday, what with how he barely even opened his eyes to look at Jonghyun and spoke so quietly. Even while being so calm and lazy, he still had an indifferent, aloof air about him. It got under Jonghyun’s skin, made him feel like he was still bugging Taemin even though he was invited to ask questions. He’s sure that he made a great fucking impression, stammering and making awkward little confirmation noises when Taemin gave him an answer, having to be prompted to ask more because he kept losing his focus.

He sighs, running his fingers through his hair. He’ll get better at the whole socializing thing eventually. For now, though, he tosses his toasts onto everyone’s plates and hands them off to Tiffany to serve.

Later, when he’s sweeping the lobby floor, he sees Taemin finally coming downstairs, rubbing a hand over his face and yawning. At least he made it down before noon. He watches as Taemin shuffles over to sit next to another biker--the leader, Jonghyun is sure, the soothing and charming one--and lean on his shoulder. The leader turns away from the conversation he was having with the businessmen from earlier to speak to Taemin, who’s yawning unashamedly against his cheek. How can the new guy be so chill about doing that? Shouldn’t he be like… respecting authority or something?

He’s so busy pondering that he doesn’t notice Taemin’s gaze slowly slipping from his leader’s lips, wandering absentmindedly around the lobby, and settling square on Jonghyun until a little smirk pulls up the corner of his lips. He feels his face heat up as Taemin continues to stare at him unblinkingly from the other side of the room. It gets worse when he realizes that he was essentially doing the same thing to Taemin just a minute ago. Fuck, he’s rude. He looks away quickly, fumbling with the broom in his hands to continue his sweeping like nothing happened.

Every time he glances back at Taemin after, he’s met with dark eyes staring back at him.

 

4  
“Uh… hey.”

Normally Taemin wouldn’t have opened his eyes, but this is surprising enough to warrant a lazy pull of the eyelids. That Jonghyun kid is standing a polite distance away, fingers twisting in his apron again as he shifts awkwardly from foot to foot and peers down at Taemin. Taemin raises his eyebrows a fraction. He thought the cleaning boy legitimately was just out here to take out the trash this time. He also thought that he kind of scared the kid off, what with all of the staring he did that morning. He couldn’t help himself. It was just the most amusing thing to see Jonghyun’s little glances and blushes when he realized that Taemin was, in fact, still looking.

“What do you want, kid?” he asks, closing his eyes again. He found out yesterday that he didn’t really mind talking to Jonghyun. His voice is kind of soothing and he thinks Taemin is even cooler than Taemin thinks of himself. Jonghyun hesitates a little bit more than usual before he answers.

“I was, um, I was wondering, like… why you were all still here?”

Taemin breathes in a deep breath, eyebrows raising a little bit more. That’s a weird question. He thinks.

“Do we usually not stay here this long?” he asks. It’s only been four days, but he’s only been with the group for a month or two. He knows what’s going on, but he’s not exactly an expert. He hears more nervous shuffling from Jonghyun.

“Well--no,” he mumbles. “Usually all of you only stay for one or two days. Maybe three.”

“Hmm,” Taemin mumbles. He shrugs, bringing his hands up to cushion his head. “Jinki says we only stop by here to drop Sungminnie off with his family and pick him back up later. I guess we’re just waiting for him to get ready.”

“Do you do that often?” Jonghyun asks. “Like, do you just drive around the country on like, a schedule, so everyone can spend some time at home? Or do you just drop people off for a few months sometimes? And do you stay at motels like this every n--”

“Kid,” Taemin says loudly, cutting off his quickening voice with a tired wave of his hand. “Are you gonna stop to let me answer during this interrogation anytime soon?” Not that it’s not amusing, how excited he gets, but damn. Slow the fuck down.

Jonghyun hasn’t slowed the fuck down; if anything, he’s gotten faster. Now he’s stammering out apologies.

“Oh--oh, fu--I’m sorry, I’m really sorry, um--I can just--I can leave, if--if you want me to, uh, if I’m bothering you, just--”

Taemin sighs quietly, opening his eyes enough to fully take in how flustered and blushy Jonghyun is. He reaches out and takes Jonghyun’s wrist gently in his. He’s no expert on whatever kind of anxiety that this kid apparently has, but he knows enough to not be a fucking dick about it.

“C'mere,” he mumbles, tugging Jonghyun down to sit next to him gently but firmly. Jonghyun stumbles, sits down a little harder than he probably would have normally, and Taemin smiles to himself as he wiggles to settle his head in Jonghyun’s lap. The kid seems like a guy that would appreciate intimacy, the trust that comes with it. And Taemin is absolutely a guy that appreciates snuggling. It’s a win-win. He doesn’t even bother to look up at Jonghyun’s face. He knows that he’s gone quiet with all of the bushing that he’s probably doing. He takes Jonghyun’s wrists again and positions one so that he can play with Taemin’s hair if he wants, if he’s that kind of guy, and the other by his waist, so he can hold him there, too. If he wants.

“If you’re gonna ask me fifty questions, you have to make me comfortable while I answer them,” he informs Jonghyun. “Or you can leave.” Yawning into the back of his hand, he turns to nuzzle gently against Jonghyun’s leg. He smells kinda nice. Like soap and bread.

“Oh,” Jonghyun says. Taemin can hear the shaky breaths that he’s taking kind of slowing down. Good, he thinks, mildly proud of himself. He feels a soft, hesitant finger just barely poking at his belt. “Um,” Jonghyun says, “I-is that a knife?”

 

5  
He’s out there again. The co-manager of the motel, the younger brother, the one that always finds excuses to hover around the garage and look at all of the bikes when he leads the group in. Jonghyun, Jinki thinks his name is. Really a nice person. He’s out back again, sitting with Taemin and talking.

Jinki is wary.

He sees them out there from the restaurant window. Taemin’s making stabbing motions at the air, a wide grin on his face as he speaks, and Jonghyun is looking vaguely unsettled. A little bit terrified, maybe, but Jinki can’t tell exactly from this far away. He still knows why, though. Taemin is lying to him right now. He’s telling Jonghyun all about how he stabs people in the eye for looking at him funny in bars. He sighs. The nerd isn't even old enough to get into bars. He’s told Taemin to stop doing that more times than he can remember.

Which is a lot, considering Taemin has only been a part of the club for a little over two months. The kid is nowhere near as mature as he pretends to be. It’s endearing, if he’s being honest with himself. Sometimes it gets kind of irritating, but he’s mostly a harmless kid.

Jinki still frowns as he watches the pair of them out there.

When they come back inside a while later, after it starts getting dark, Jinki waits until Jonghyun passes by and gently reaches out to catch his elbow. Taemin’s already shuffled away, probably to go take a piss before he comes back for some dinner. Now is probably the best time to do this. Jonghyun turns to look at him, humming politely in question.

“Hey, so, I saw you two out there,” Jinki starts, pointing a thumb over his shoulder at the back garden. Realization dawns on Jonghyun’s face and his cheeks turn a faint pink. He holds his left arm in his right subconsciously.

“Uh--yeah,” he says. “I was just--asking him some questions, about--you know….” he trails off awkwardly. Jinki smiles sympathetically. He knows.

“Did he tell you about the eye stabbing thing?” he asks. He already knows the answer, but he still sighs and rolls his eyes when Jonghyun nods in confirmation. What a shit his new club member is. “Alright, listen,” he says, “Taemin is full of shit. He’s never stabbed anyone. Look at him. He’s like a cat. He sleeps practically all day. You think he’s gonna go to the effort of stabbing someone?” He scoffs lightly, shaking his head at just the thought of Taemin trying to jam a knife into someones face. He’d whine about how much work it took just to get the thing out of its sheath. “He just has it to clean gunk out from under his fingernails and because he thinks it makes him look cool.”

“Oh,” Jonghyun says. Jinki raises an eyebrow; his cheeks are a darker pink than before and he’s bringing a hand up to run through his hair. “I, um. I knew that, yeah. I mean--yeah.” He grins weakly. Jinki grins back, amused. He’s lying through his teeth. That’s okay though. He knows now, and that’s the important part.

 


	2. Five times Taemin wasn’t really that intimidating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re not sixteen,” Jonghyun blurts out, staring blankly at the biker. Taemin blinks, gaze switching from Amber to him.
> 
> “Um,” he says, “Yes I am?”

1  
Jonghyun is making beds and setting out towels after the afternoon checkouts when he hears the familiar rumbling in the distance. He drops what’s doing and scrambles to press against the window so he can peer down the usually quiet stretch of road. In all of his eighteen and a half years, this has always been his favorite part.

The bikers are already in view on the horizon: a group of eight this time, metal gleaming, helmets masking their faces, exhaust pipes smoking, the late afternoon sun high overhead. The bikes rumble, roar, a noise that grows louder as they grow closer until Jonghyun swears he can feel vibrating in his soul (or his chest at the very least). They slow down once they reach the wide entranceway, roll in so casually, a few of them screeching to a halt, and all of them cutting their engines in the parking lot. The bikes sputter to a satisfying stop and Jonghyun’s fingers are kind of starting to hurt from how tightly he’s holding on to the windowsill.

So fucking cool.

He spares a little more time to watch them all dismount their bikes and take off their helmets. He picks out the leader, pushing his reddish hair out of his face (and somehow into that perfectly suave little flip), the blonde one he thinks is called Amber, who’s always talking about their girlfriend on the other side of the country, the dark and quiet one, the tall and lanky one, and a few others that he knows by face and bike. And one new one, on a bike that Jonghyun doesn’t recognize.

That one is Taemin; Jonghyun knows before he even takes off his helmet. His pretty face comes into view as he pulls off the helmet, along with straggly, sweaty strands of his blonde hair. He leans against the bike with a kind of effortless casualness as he takes off his gloves and shrugs his jacket half off of his shoulders. The leader waits for everyone to get comfy on the ground and stretch their legs before gesturing for them all to head inside for check-ins and parking passes for the garage. Jonghyun starts, glancing behind him at the half finished room he was working on. Shit. He forgot.

He scurries to finish his work before one of the bikers tries to have a nap in a dirty room that he was supposed to have cleaned, and then heads downstairs to see if he can be of use anywhere else.

An hour later, he’s throwing out the trash from lunch out back when he notices a person lying out in the grass with their wet hair. He raises an eyebrow. Someone didn’t waste any time.

“Back out here again?” he asks, not entirely sure where his little boost of bravery came from. It’s probably because he’s too busy being surprised that Taemin was able to eat, shower, and be half asleep out here in less than an hour. That’s some dedication. Taemin’s eyes open as he lifts his head a fraction to frown at Jonghyun, looking disgruntled.

“I like it out here,” he grumbles, then lets his head thunk back down. Jonghyun shifts uneasily, pouting to himself. Did he offend Taemin? He didn’t want that. He shouldn’t have said anything. Now Taemin feels weird about relaxing in the back because Jonghyun had to bring it up like a dick. Fuck. “Hey,” Taemin says suddenly, “do you think you could bring me some ice water? With a straw?”

“Uh--yeah.” Jonghyun pretends like he didn’t jump when Taemin startled him out of his thoughts, heads back inside to fill up a cup, sticks a straw in it, and brings it back outside. When he hands it to Taemin, the biker is pouting, lips all puffed up.

“I like plants, okay,” he mumbles around the straw. Jonghyun looks at him for a moment, grumpy and sleepy and defensive, and smiles.

“Okay.”

 

2  
In the morning, Jonghyun chances upon an… interesting conversation as he’s mopping the lobby floor. It’s after breakfast and the leader of the gang is leaning up against the front counter, waiting patiently for the others to come down so he can check them all out. Jonghyun’s not really trying to listen when Taemin shuffles up and leans heavily against his shoulder; he just happens to overhear it.

“Jinki, two dollars please.”

“Why?”

“Vending machine.”

Jonghyun glances up at the solitary vending machine up against the wall. He forgets that they have that sometimes. He’s not even sure who restocks it. He wonders what’s in it that Taemin likes.

“No, I meant, why do you need my two dollars?” Jinki is asking. Jonghyun glances up quickly. He’s not sure, but he thinks Taemin is leaning even more heavily on Jinki than before. Jinki looks utterly unfazed by his intrusive presence.

“I forgot my wallet on my bike,” Taemin says. Jinki sighs audibly.

“Didn’t I tell you to stop doing that?”

“Jinki, two dollars please.”

Jonghyun wonders if he’ll ever be able to encompass that perfected aura of sheer indifference to authority. Like, that’s a valuable skill, if the way Jinki sighs again and pulls out his wallet means anything.

“Fine,” he says. He hands Taemin two bills; Taemin takes them with a mumbled word of thanks and shuffles to the vending machine, leaving his leader shaking his head behind him.

A minute later, he comes back and offers Jinki his change and a strawberry gummy.

 

3  
It’s a sweet, quiet tune on the lobby piano that announces the bikers’ presence at the motel over a month later.

Well--it announces someone’s presence. Jonghyun doesn’t realize that it’s the gang until he peeps out of the employee lounge behind the front desk. He didn’t hear their bikes, but there they all are, milling around the lobby sleepily as Jinki speaks to his sister about checking everyone in. Maybe they drove in as quietly as possible, since it’s so late. They do do that sometimes. How polite. He was actually about to head to bed, but it wouldn’t hurt to take a look.

He slips out from the break room to hover inconspicuously behind the counter, just in case. Leaning against the wall, he watches as Amber and… Sunny, he thinks, sit at the piano and giggle quietly as they attempt a duet. Heart and Soul, if he’s hearing right. He smiles, foot tapping along subconsciously.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Taemin slouching over to join them, pushing his hair out of his face with a yawn. He leans against the polished side of the instrument and watches them for a moment, then flips his hair imperiously and flaps his hands.

“Move, move,” he says, quiet voice still audible in the silence of the lobby. “It’s magnificence is squandered by your grubby unskilled hands.”

“Rude,” Sunny replies, but both are grinning easily as they get up and make room for Taemin. Jonghyun shifts hesitantly. Would it be weird to go over there? No, right? He takes a few casual, cautious steps towards the piano as Taemin sets up his fingers and starts playing the gradual intro to what sounds like an old-fashioned showtune. By the time Jonghyun slides up to lean against the side of the piano, Taemin’s song has picked up to a bright, bouncy tune. His fingers move skillfully and he’s got a little self-satisfied smile on his face.

“Hey,” Jonghyun says quietly after a particularly complicated sounding bit. Taemin glances up at him for a second before looking back down at his fingers. Jonghyun takes that look as an okay to keep talking and shuffles a tiny bit closer so he can watch easier. “You’re really good,” he says. Obviously he’s not Mozart, but at least he’s playing a well-practiced, memorized song that’s not “Row Row Row Your Boat.”

“Thanks, kid,” Taemin mumbles. He keeps playing easily, watching his own fingers press the keys. Jonghyun watches for a moment with him before looking back to his face.

“What song is that?” he asks curiously. He doesn’t think he’s ever heard it. As soon as he asks, Taemin’s lazy smile turns into more of a smirk. He looks up and straight into Jonghyun’s eyes as he says:

"Look at my Enormous Penis.”

Jonghyun kind of chokes on his spit.

“Wha--”

“Taemin,” Jinki’s voice sternly, and Jonghyun can feel his face heating up when he turns to see the biker walking up to them, frowning in a tired kind of way. “Are you playing that penis song again?” he asks. Taemin just cackles in response, grinning up at his leader and flipping his hair out of his face. Jinki sighs fondly. He’s repressing a smile. Jonghyun can tell. It still shows through; he wonders how often Taemin plays this song, if it’s worth this kind of exasperated amusement. Do they come across a lot of pianos on their journeys?

He feels kind of embarrassed about not realizing that the thing Taemin said was actually a song title, but it’s a smaller kind of embarrassment compared to when he thought Taemin was literally telling him to look at his fucking dick. His blush is lessening into his regularly flustered pink. Good.

“Come on, it’s late,” Jinki tells Taemin. He tugs on his jacket until he gets off of the bench. “Bed,” he orders. Taemin mumbles nothing articulate in reply, but Jinki nods like he understands him anyway and hands him a room key. Jonghyun hears him humming his song to himself as he shuffles to the stairs.

 

4  
Jonghyun is proud of himself. He really is. It’s May and the place is crowded with several groups of vacationers and the biker gang (of course the first time they’re back in three months is this exact day). The little restaurant almost all the way full. It’s nowhere near as much as a regular breakfast diner would be, but for their little motel, it’s a lot, especially since they don’t have many employees. Tiffany had needed help, had practically begged for it--and, surprisingly, Jonghyun agreed.

He’s nervous, anxious, and stressed under all of the pressure to not fuck up orders. Really, he wants nothing more to do than be back in the kitchen, toasting bread and washing dishes and not trying to keep the shaking out of his voice when he takes orders. But still, he’s doing this. He’s being brave and he’s damned proud of what a good job he’s doing, even if he has had to ask a couple people to repeat themselves one or two times.

He slips up to a the second table of bikers to take their orders. This one has Amber, Minhwan (he thinks), and Taemin, and the latter is sitting with his chin propped up in his hand. Jonghyun goes for him first, just because of the comfort of being on somewhat-speaking terms with him.

“Taemin?” he asks, waiting for the sleepy biker to look at him. “What would you like?”

“Um,” Taemin says. He sits up straight, rubs his eye and peers blearily around the room. “I don’t… know,” he says after a long moment. Jonghyun looks at him, pencil raised over his notepad. What.

“What do… you mean, you don’t know?” he asks. How does someone not…? This isn’t something that he was ready for. Especially on a day like this. Ugh. Taemin is making this face, half annoyed, half sheepish.

“I mean, usually Jinki orders for me, but… he’s not… here,” he mumbles. He brings a hand up to rub his nose. Jonghyun blinks. Oh. Well--okay.

“Dude,” Amber says, raising incredulous eyebrows at him. “How old are you that you can’t order for yourself? Like, really.” They’re grinning in a good natured way, but Taemin’s cheeks still flush a faint pink. Jonghyun doesn’t get what’s so bad about it. He’s just turned nineteen and he still has to get his sister to call his doctor for him. It’s kind of the sa--

“I’m sixteen,” Taemin says defiantly, cutting Jonghyun out of his thoughts. “And I’ve never been good with waiters, okay? They fluster me.” He humphs and folds his arms, and Jonghyun really should be trying to hurry this up, but he’s not sure he just heard that right.

“You’re not sixteen,” he blurts out, staring blankly at the biker. Taemin blinks, gaze switching from Amber to him.

“Um,” he says, “Yes I am?”

No he’s not. He can’t be. He’s lying, he is lying to Jonghyun’s face.

“But--you’re older than me?” He is. He absolutely is. He’s older and more mature and--he’s not fucking sixteen. He’s like, twenty. At the least.

“Uh--yeah?” Taemin says again. “I’m almost seventeen, you’re like, fifteen or some sh--”

“I’m nineteen,” Jonghyun says. Taemin’s whole face scrunches up; he looks as disbelieving as Jonghyun feels.

“No you’re not,” he says.

“Am too,” Jonghyun insists. He would know how old he is. He supposes that Taemin would know too, but--just--what.

“But--”

“Okay--you’re both bad at guessing ages, and I’m hungry,” Amber whines, leaning in front of Taemin to peer at Jonghyun pointedly. It does the trick; Jonghyun jumps, suddenly remembering how stressed and hurried he is. Fuck, he’s wasting time here--this isn’t the right place for being incredulous about Taemin’s age.

“Fu--yeah, yes, s-sorry,” he says quickly, fighting down his shaky hands again because they’re looking at him with an an amused, raised eyebrow. “U-um--”

“Jinki’s coming back,” Minhwan points out helpfully, nodding at the other end of the room.

“Oh, good,” Taemin says, looking over Jonghyun’s shoulder. Jonghyun looks as well and breathes a tiny sigh a relief when he sees the older biker coming out of the bathroom. Jinki will get things back on track. He’s good at that.

 

5  
Taemin just… really likes leaves. They’re so soft. So cute. So important. He plays with a little group that’s close to the ground, close to his hand, smiling softly. The veins of the leaves are his favorite parts. He rubs his thumb over the little ridges gently, so as to not hurt the plant. The gentle stimulation makes their fresh smell stronger and he breathes deeply, happy where he is at this moment.

The sound of the back door opening and closing draws his attention away from his leaves. It’s Jonghyun; of course it’s Jonghyun. He lets his head fall back against the leaves, then puffs up his lips in a pout. Nineteen. What a fucking liar. There is no way that Noodle Arms McBig Eyes over there is two years and some months older than him. He had to be lying earlier. But--why would he, though?

“Hey,” he calls, turning more into the leaves to breathe them in some more. “How old are you, really?” He angles his head so he can peer lazily at the cleaning boy. See--even his nickname for Jonghyun, before he knew his real name, had “boy” in it. Nineteen year-olds aren’t boys. If he was nineteen, he’d be the cleaning guy. Jonghyun doesn’t reply to him at first; he’s leaning against the back wall and rubbing his hands over his face. Oh. Yeah. The whole being-really-busy thing. He forgot. Hmm. He should probably--

“Nineteen, I told you.”

Oh. He’s replied. Taemin still doesn’t believe it. Jonghyun is shuffling forward across the back courtyard; does he think Taemin needs something? He shouldn’t. He doesn’t want to waste his time when the place is so busy.

“I don’t need anything,” he says as quickly as he can bring himself to manage. He’s not a very quick person. “You can go back inside.”

“Nnngh,” Jonghyun mumbles. Taemin raises an eyebrow. He drags himself right up to the hedges. “Break time,” he says. “Sodam gave me an hour.”

“Sodam?” Taemin asks, a second before he realizes that it’s probably the name of his boss.

“Sister,” Jonghyun says. “Co-manager.” He lowers himself clumsily to his knees, sits down, and then lays down. Just--falls right over. Taemin doesn’t think it was even planned; Jonghyun is just that tired.

“Um,” Taemin says.

“Break time,” Jonghyun mumbles. He shifts, wiggles closer to Taemin and rests his head on his chest. “Nap time.” There’s not a shred of hesitance, of anxiety, of any of his usual blushing as he nuzzles Taemin’s shirt. He must be really out of it, really fucking desperate for some rest. “Wake me up in half an hour,” he whispers, and then he’s asleep.

Taemin’s eyebrows shoot into his hair. Huh. He never would have guessed. All it takes to make Jonghyun not give a single shit is a large amount of stress and fatigue. He slips his arm around Jonghyun’s shoulders and tugs him a little bit closer, for comfort’s sake. With the free moments he has like this, he takes a closer look at Jonghyun’s face. He guesses that he could be nineteen; his jawline seems stronger, face less soft when his big, innocent eyes aren’t blinking at him in mildly intimidated wonder. And there was also that thing he said about his boss--or, his sister, and co-manager? It’s not like he can be co-manager of a motel if he’s underage.

He’s starting to get the feeling that there’s more to this shy, skinny dweeb that he doesn’t know besides just his age.

Meh. Whatever. He’ll figure everything out eventually. This is too much thinking and mystery for him right now. He just wants to have his daily nap in the leaves. He rests his head against Jonghyun’s and shuts his eyes, figuring that Jonghyun told him half an hour instead of the whole hour his sister gave him just because he’d feel guilty for staying away for too long, and no one would actually mind if he was just a few minutes late anyway. He’s been working hard. He deserves it.


	3. Five times Jonghyun kinda had a crush on Taemin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He bends over to take Taemin’s wrists and haul him to his feet. Taemin rises, with some kind of oddly perfected casual grace, until he comes to a stop almost face-to-face with Jonghyun. Fuck. This wasn’t part of the plan.

****1  
Jonghyun isn’t sure if it’s because the bikers have bad timing or because all of the other travelers do, but either way, he’s out in the dining area again, taking orders and serving food to an almost full house during the hour and a half that the kitchen is open for lunch. It’s not as bad as the first time a month ago, partly because there’s less random travelers. Mostly, though, it’s because Jonghyun is more used to the whole process.

Since the month before, he’d been volunteering himself to take over lunches because he feels like he should be doing more than just assorted chores. He’s nineteen years old; he doesn’t want to be useless. And he feels like he can handle doing lunches like this, just a few customers for an hour a day. It’s doing good for him. He’s getting better--at waiting tables and at talking to strangers without shaking.

Apparently, though, he still can’t focus around a certain quiet, sleepy biker without blushing. Taemin is just… looking at him. His eyes are dark, hooded, and piercing, like they’re looking into Jonghyun’s very soul--and the tiny little grin that Jonghyun catches on his lips whenever he glances back isn’t the most comforting response to whatever it is he sees in there.

He hasn’t said a word from where he’s leaning his head against Jinki’s shoulder, but he’s still managing to throw Jonghyun off as he tries to listen to what the table wants. The moment from last month where he woke up nuzzled against Taemin’s neck has been invading his mind since then and it’s like Taemin _knows._ It’s like he knows that Jonghyun is remembering how soft his skin was, how good he smelled, how comfortable and soothing it was to be pressed up against him. It’s like he knows that Jonghyun has been thinking about him and fighting down flustered, infatuated blushes for a whole fucking month.

He can’t know, though; that would be absurd. The biker gang left the day after the incident and this is the first time they’ve seen each other since. He’s just looking at Jonghyun like that because he’s tired and zoning out. And Jonghyun blushes all of the time--Taemin doesn’t know that he’s gotten better at this whole waiting thing. He just thinks that Jonghyun is nervous. Yeah. That must be it.

He rips his gaze away from Taemin’s for what he hopes is the last time to hastily scribble down Jinki’s order.

When he’s bringing everyone their food later, Taemin’s dark eyes distract him again.

 

2  
 _“Sunday Breakfast-in-Bed Special: Call between 9:00-10:00am and order off of our special menu to have your breakfast brought to you for a lazy start to a lazy day.”_

Taemin tiredly flips over the little flyer on his bedside table, trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes on the pillow. It kind of just makes him sleepier. He yawns, then blearily focuses on the simple breakfast foods on the menu. He never knew that he could order room service like this. They’ve been here on Sundays before, he’s pretty sure. He supposes that’s what he gets when he refuses to wake up earlier than eleven thirty on most days. He’s not even really sure why he’s up so early today, but he might as well take advantage of this opportunity while he has it.

He’s dialing the number under all of the kitchen hours into his room’s phone when it registers in his brain that he’s going to have to speak to a waiter or something. He grimaces. It won’t be that bad. He can’t be flustered if it’s not in person right?

He hangs up the phone a few minutes later, mildly flustered. He never realized how many clarifying questions there could be for a simple breakfast order. It feels like he just went through an interrogation or some shit. Suddenly, he appreciates Jinki even more than he did before. Maybe he’ll buy him that bandanna he saw him looking at in the mall a few weeks ago.

Rolling onto his back, he rubs his hand over his face and blinks blearily at the ceiling. It would probably be polite to clean himself up a little bit before they come in. On the other hand, he can just tip them a little extra and stay in bed. _That’s_ a plan that he can get behind. He relaxes back into the soft mattress, counting the little ridges of the popcorn ceiling so he doesn’t fall asleep before his breakfast arrives.

Which happens surprisingly quickly; he guesses that not too many other people here woke up early enough or even know about the special. Maybe it’s a new thing? Whatever. He wiggles into more of a sitting position as the room service employee lets themselves in like he requested on the phone. They bring the smell of a promising bacon with them and--oh. It’s Jonghyun. The blushy cleaning boy himself. Though--Taemin supposes he’s not just the cleaning boy anymore, if he’s waiting tables and bringing him breakfast in bed. He’s also not a boy anymore, actually, since Taemin learned from Jinki that he actually is nineteen years old. All of this identity changing is starting to confuse Taemin.

Breakfast, though--breakfast is something that’ll always make sense to him.

“Hey, kid,” he mumbles. He probably shouldn’t call him “kid” anymore. The way Jonghyun smiles shyly at him though, big eyes and small posture… it’s just too hard to not see him as younger still. It’s just a nickname anyway. Jonghyun doesn’t mind. Jonghyun probably likes it--he sees the way his cheeks flush just a tiny shade pinker. He was watching Jonghyun during lunch yesterday, too. Unsettling Jonghyun is becoming his new favorite thing to do. It’s just so easy to.

As Jonghyun fumbles to grab his food off of the cart, though, Taemin figures that maybe he should stop. It’s an asshole move to make the poor guy any more anxious than he is by default--and contrary to popular belief, Taemin isn’t _actually_ a piece of shit. He just acts like it. It’s a calculated process of keeping everyone’s expectations of him low, but not too low. People should appreciate him more for how much effort he puts into it.

“Um… two scrambled eggs, soft hash browns, white toast with strawberry jelly, double order of extra crispy bacon, double cup of strawberries and a carton of milk?” Jonghyun holds up a bed tray with his breakfast on it, looking at him with questioning eyes. Taemin doesn’t even remember the specifics of what he ordered, but that sounds like what Jinki usually gets for him and there’s a receipt next to his plate, so it has to be his.

“I guess, yeah,” he shrugs, reaching out for his tray. “Oh--wait--” He leans over and grabs his bag before the tray blocks his movement. Fishing out his wallet, he pulls a ten out, examines it for a moment, shrugs, and holds it out in exchange for the tray. “For your tip or whatever,” he mumbles. Jonghyun takes the bill from him hesitantly, turning it over in his fingers.

“This is… more than what your breakfast cost by itself,” he says slowly. Taemin blinks with his hand halfway to his milk. Is it really? Wow. He doesn’t feel half as bad now about putting his order on Jinki’s card. He shrugs, reaching the rest of the way to the carton and fumbling with the weird foldy-squeezy lid thing. He can never do this.

“It’s something extra, for you,” he says, glancing up lazily. He debates for a moment on whether or not to tell Jonghyun that it’s “for being cute.” He decides against it quickly. Jonghyun would probably blush right off of the face of the earth if he actually said that. “Because I don’t actually have anything less than a ten,” is what he says instead. He gets his milk open then, only a little bit mangled. He’s kind of proud of himself. “Can I get a straw?” he asks, looking up from the tray. He hates drinking straight out of these things.

“Oh--um,” Jonghyun says, He fumbles to stuff the money into his apron pocket. He’s probably going to put it into the tip jar at the front desk so it can be split along with everything else. “Yeah, yeah.” He scuttles to the rolling tray he has out in the hallway and comes back with a straw, some napkins, and little packets of salt and pepper. Oh, good. Taemin wouldn’t have even thought to ask for those. He accepts them with a mumbled word of thanks, eager to start on his food. He’s got everything set up and is stabbing his first forkful of egg when he realizes that Jonghyun is still there. Hovering, watching. Taemin doesn’t have much experience in stuff like this, but shouldn’t he have said goodbye and left by now?

“Do you want something, kid?” he asks, looking up from his food. Jonghyun jumps, cheeks flushing darker, fingers twiddling sheepishly at his waist. Taemin would bet another ten dollars that he didn’t even realize that he was staring.

“No, no--uh--sorry--enjoy your breakfast,” he says, in what Taemin assumes would be a peppy, chipper tone were he less embarrassed. “Just...just leave your tray and room service will clean up later. And, um--yeah, I’ll just--bye.” he backs himself out. Taemin watches, amused. He almost wants to know what would happen if he asked Jonghyun to come and eat breakfast with him.

Maybe another time.

 

3  
“Um,” Jonghyun says as soon as he rounds the corner. He’s stopped in his tracks--and for good reason; one more step and he would’ve stepped right on Taemin’s chest.

His very bare, very naked chest, laid out over the carpet in front of a closed door. The rest of him is clothed, which is good, because Jonghyun is already having trouble processing the limited expanse of smooth, clear skin presented in front of him. Taemin looks very soft, very slim, with faint muscles but not too much. Enough that if Jonghyun were to rest on his torso, it might be firm, but still plush and comfortable. And with a tan like that--he must go shirtless often.

Jonghyun doesn’t consider himself a very sexual person, but, fuck. Taemin is nice to look at. There have been one or two, and Taemin is definitely--

“H-hey,” hey says, before he can fluster himself. Other people do that enough for him. “Why are you shirtless on the floor?” he asks, nudging Taemin’s elbow gently with his foot. And why the _fuck_ is he still crushing on this biker? It’s been two months since the last visit where he could barely talk without blushing. He thought crushes were supposed to go _away_ with time. This is the exact opposite of what’s supposed to have happened. He’s just trying to open some windows down here. He doesn’t need to be tested by all of this… cute tummy and dusky nipples bullshit going on. Taemin’s face scrunches up as he makes a sleepy little noise, a little groan in the back of his throat. This is just, this is too much.

Taemin cracks open his eyes to peer blearily at Jonghyun with a tiny little curve of a smile and Jonghyun feels assaulted.

“I went down to get breakfast but Jinki told me to put a shirt on,” he murmurs, lifting his arm up to rest his head against his (very nice looking) bicep. “So I came back up here to put a shirt on and realized that I’d left my key inside. So I couldn’t get a shirt. And now I’m here.” His other hand comes up to fluff through his bangs.

He shaves his underarms.

Jonghyun probably shouldn’t have noticed that detail.

He shakes his head to break his line of sight to the little vaccination scar on Taemin’s arm, refocusing his vision on his room door instead. He can fix this. This is a problem that he can fix. He fumbles in his pockets for his set of keys, then fumbles with the keys until he finds the right one. When he unlocks the door and gently presses it open, the foot Taemin had resting against it slides to the floor. Taemin blinks at his newly unlocked room.

“Hmm,” he hums. “Thanks.” He takes a deep, chest-inflating breath, makes a little noise of effort, moves like he’s going to get up, and then flops back down, exhaling that breath slowly. “Mmmgh,” he hums this time. He rolls over onto his stomach and rests his head in his arms. “I don’t wanna get up,” he mumbles. Jonghyun stares almost shamefully at his back, his shoulderblades, the dip of it into his pants, before sliding his gaze down to Taemin’s sleepy face.

“Don’t… don’t you want breakfast?” he asks. That’s what brought this problem up in the first place, right? Down on the floor, Taemin rolls once more to settle on his back, wiggling until his legs are sprawled out over the carpet. His hands are laced behind his head and a soft little smile is playing over his lips.

“I suppose,” he says. He takes another deep breath like before, but this time, he thrusts his hands into the air, fingers wiggling. “Pull me up,” he demands. Jonghyun swears there’s a challenge in his eyes, like he’s testing to see if Jonghyun really will do it. Sometimes Jonghyun thinks he does these things just to fuck with him. Well, he’s not gonna back down.

He bends over to take Taemin’s wrists and haul him to his feet. Taemin rises, with some kind of oddly perfected casual grace, until he comes to a stop almost face-to-face with Jonghyun. Fuck. This wasn’t part of the plan.

Taemin smiles softly down at him-- _down,_ because he’s actually a few inches taller, despite being younger, and he’s just close enough that Jonghyun can really appreciate the intricate details of his face.

And by appreciate, he means blush grossly at.

“Thanks, kid,” Taemin says, pulling his hands away from Jonghyun’s slowly before turning and slouching into his room. Jonghyun doesn’t miss the way he lets their fingers catch, or the fondness with which he says the nickname. He needs to leave, to--to finish opening windows in the rooms like he was supposed to be doing before Taemin came along and distracted him with all of his half-nakedness.

Some fresh air will do him good.

 

4  
“Okay, you know what?” Taemin puts his hand on Jonghyun’s shin, using it to push himself up. Not like he’s going to get any real rest like this anyway, with Jonghyun’s fingers tapping absentmindedly on his stomach and his voice asking endless questions about his bike. What model it is, what year, how fast it goes, what tires it has… what kind of _gas_ it takes? Why the fuck does that even matter to Jonghyun? He stumbles a little bit when he straightens out, pretends like it didn’t happen, and doesn’t bother with popping his jacket back up to cover his shoulders.

“You wanna see my fucking bike so bad?” he asks, looking over his shoulder at where Jonghyun is still sitting in the grass, blinking up at him with uncertainty. “Come on, kid, let’s go,” he mutters. “Field trip.” Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he sets off around the side of the building. He’s actually not sure which side opens up to the garage, but he's got a fifty-fifty shot. He walks with confidence. After a moment he hears Jonghyun scrambling to his feet behind him.

“R-really? You’re gonna show me? Your bike? With all of the other bikes? Will you turn it on? Can I touch it?”

Maybe this was a mistake. Taemin thought that bikes made Jonghyun talk a lot before, but this is something else entirely. He glances behind himself once again; Jonghyun is trailing after him like a puppy. His eyes are big--and not like, normal big, either, with all of the shyness in them. Now they’re bright and eager, not a shred of anxiety. And his grin is splitting his whole fucking face open, giddy and excited. It’s cute, kind of. Endearing, how he doesn’t seem to know what to do with his hands and how he seems to be struggling with keeping his distance from Taemin. He keeps shuffling closer, then scooting back, like he doesn’t want to hover.

Taemin appreciates it.

He strolls leisurely into the cool shade of the garage; Jonghyun practically vibrates in with his fists clenched in the bottom of his shirt. He’s been in here before, Taemin knows. He’s seen him watching when they all roll in. Sometimes he catches him slipping in there just to look at all of the bikes, and he’s almost always watching when they all kick up and leave. He thinks, this time though, Jonghyun is ten times more excited because he has a legitimate reason. Taemin kind of likes being that reason, the reason his face is so lit up and happy.

“Mine’s this one,” he says as he slouches up to his cruiser and kicks the front tire lightly.

“I know,” Jonghyun replies, a little bit too quickly. Taemin represses a snort. Jonghyun doesn’t even seem embarrassed by it. Taemin thinks the only reason he hasn’t broken the sound barrier trying to get to the bike is because he’s taking his time to appreciate all of the other ones as he passes by them. Kyuhyun’s pretentious high handlebars, Sunny’s custom pink rims, Jinki’s thick grip covers--he seems to have memorized his favorite details about each bike without ever actually being invited to see them.

Eventually, he gets to Taemin’s bike, and Taemin can see the way he bites his lip with excitement. It’s not exactly brand new territory--it’s been almost a year since Taemin first came to this motel--but to be fair, his collective time here probably only adds up to around a month. Jonghyun needs to make up for lost time.

His hands hover over the sleek black finish of the side panels. Shaky fingers trace the mint green designs from an inch away. Taemin thinks he’s gonna make himself bleed, what with how hard he’s biting his lip.

“You can touch it,” he says, raising his eyebrows. Jonghyun glances quickly at him, then immediately sucks his hand into his sleeve and uses it to rub fingerprints that Taemin never noticed off of the metal. Taemin scoffs. Excuse him for not keeping his motorcycle in pristine condition. After that, Jonghyun still doesn’t dare to touch it with his bare hands: he runs his sleeve-covered palms over the metal, the leather of the seat, the buttons and dials of the dashboard, and the handlebars, where they stay, gripping gently, like he’s afraid of breaking the four hundred pound hunk of metal.

“Fuck,” he breathes.

How articulate.

At least he’s not asking a hundred questions anymore. He’s cursing under his breath at a mile a minute as he rubs his thumb over the grips, yeah, but Taemin isn’t obligated to reply to those. He just has to stand here and be amused at what an obvious hard-on this kid has for motorcycles. He bets Jonghyun has never even sat on one before. Never ridden one. Never gotten to really know what it feels like other than hazy dreams and romanticized fantasies.

Taemin suddenly has an idea.

“Wanna take a ride?”

Jonghyun’s head snaps up so fast Taemin is surprised he didn’t crick his neck.

“What?”

Yeah, this is a great idea.

“Come on, kid, let’s go for a ride,” Taemin repeats, flapping Jonghyun’s hands away from the handlebars. He swings his leg over the bike and settles comfortably a little further up than he normally would so there’s room for Jonghyun to sit behind him. This is gonna be good. He sees nothing wrong with this idea. The bike is already set up with a straight shot to the parking lot (he prefers leaving first because he hates being in the garage when everyone starts their bikes) and it’s not like he’s gonna do a triple backflip off of a speedbump or anything.

A wheelie, maybe.

He rummages in his pockets for his key, jams it into the ignition, grabs the clutch, and hits the kill switch. Thumb hovering over the start button, he turns his head to look at Jonghyun. The kid is still standing there, hands in his sleeves, looking dazed and confused.

“Are you getting on or what?” Taemin asks.

“Oh--um--I mean--” Jonghyun scoots forward hesitantly, fingers trailing lightly over the leather behind Taemin. “Do you--will you--really?” His eyes are shining like this is just too good to be true. Taemin yawns into his hand, then runs his fingers through his hair, looking at Jonghyun blearily when he lets his hand fall back down.

“Well, I’m not sitting here for nothing, am I?” When Jonghyun still doesn’t make a move, Taemin sighs. He didn’t get up for nothing. “Look, kid--I’ll let you hit the start button.”

Jonghyun’s eyes snap to his, a slow, wide grin curving up his lips. There. _Now_ they’re getting somewhere. He gives Jonghyun his own tiny grin and jerks his head in an order to get on--one that Jonghyun obeys eagerly. Taemin follows his lead in pretending that he didn’t have to try a few times to swing his leg over the bike, opting instead to throw a glance over his shoulder when he finally gets settled. He’s warm behind Taemin, warm and solidly pressed up against his back.

“Ready?” he asks blandly. He doesn’t think Jonghyun could not be ready. He could swear the kid is vibrating behind him with how excited he is. As long as he doesn’t piss himself or something--though Taemin doesn’t think he has to worry about that particular issue. Jonghyun would never do something to hurt the bike.

“Y-yeah, yeah,” Jonghyun says, shifting closer to Taemin and reaching boldly around him to hover a finger over the start button. Taemin moves his thumb so Jonghyun can press lightly against it. “Can I?” he asks eagerly.

“Go for it,” Taemin says.

Jonghyun goes for it.

The engine sputters to life and mellows out to it’s regular purr easily. Taemin feels more than hears Jonghyun’s whispered curse against the back of his neck and snorts. He bats Jonghyun’s hand away from the throttle so he can grab it himself.

“Hold on tight, or whatever,” he says over his shoulder. Immediately, Jonghyun’s arms circle around his waist and squeeze. There’s more breaths of whispered curses against his neck and he’s pretty sure Jonghyun’s face is mashed between his shoulderblades. This is the most endearing passenger he’s ever had.

Not that he’s had very many passengers during his time. Or… any, for that matter. He’s sure the extra weight of Jonghyun behind him won’t really mean much. At least he hasn’t taken Taemin’s advice too literally and isn’t holding him so tightly that he can’t breathe. He looks fondly down at his stomach, where Jonghyun’s fingers are curling eagerly into his shirt, and then up at the open entrance to the parking lot. He’ll just do a lap or something, maybe two.

“Let’s go then,” he says, not missing the way Jonghyun inhales sharply and shifts to peep over his shoulder. “Keep your feet on the rests,” he adds as he kicks the bike into first and urges it out into the lot. He goes slowly, partly so Jonghyun is comfortable and partly so he can get used to the feel of having a passenger. He thinks the most different part of it all is the constant stream of “fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, yes, fuck,” behind his ear. At this point, he would not be at all surprised if Jonghyun creamed himself before he gets off of the bike.

He rolls them through the smooth asphalt, down the exit driveway, and onto the stretch of highway in front of the motel. There he speeds up a bit, just enough so that the bike really growls, grinning to himself when Jonghyun squeezes him tighter. He slows down again when he reaches the entrance to the parking lot. When he turns smoothly back in to face the motel, he sees Jinki there waiting for them, arms crossed and frown obvious. Well, shit.

“Here comes the party pooper,” he mutters over his shoulder. He rolls them to a slow stop in front of Jinki and hits the kill switch with a sigh. Resting his elbow on the dash and propping his chin up in his hand, he looks at Jinki unashamedly as Jinki frowns back at him. “Hi,” he says.

“Where’s your helmet?” Jinki asks. Wow. Not even an answering greeting. So it’s gonna be like this. Taemin shrugs.

“It was just a lap around the parking lot.”

“Where’s _his_ helmet?”

“We went slow.”

“Taemin….” Jinki trails off with a sigh, shaking his head and pinching the bridge of his nose. Taemin sighs, rolls his eyes, and runs his fingers through his hair.

“Time to get off, kid,” he tells Jonghyun.

“Oh--okay,” Jonghyun says quickly. Taemin turns to look at him; he doesn't even look bothered by it. On the contrary, his face is taken over by a wide, endearingly giddy grin and bright, excited eyes. It looks like that short ride around the parking lot was the thrill of his life. His hands slip to Taemin’s sides as he wiggles off of the bike, then to the handlebar to steady himself on his jiggly legs. Taemin raises his eyebrows in amusement. The bike wasn’t even on for much more than a few minutes.

“You have fun?” he asks, watching Jonghyun’s fingers linger on his bike for longer than absolutely necessary. Jonghyun nods eagerly, chest inflating with excited breaths. Behind him, Taemin sees Jinki trying not to smile. He’s such a fucking sap for happy people. He smirks lazily at Jinki over Jonghyun’s shoulder; when Jinki notices, he fixes his face back into it’s stern frown. Taemin just smirks more because he loves when he catches him being a huge softie. He fixes his gaze back on Jonghyun, who’s still just feeling up his bike handle. “Good. Now shoo,” he mumbles, batting Jonghyun’s hand away. “I gotta get yelled at.”

“Oh--oh.” Jonghyun takes his hand away, glancing at Jinki over his shoulder. His smile fades into a guilty little frown. “Um,” he says, fingers curling self-consciously into his palm. Taemin rolls his eyes. Of course he would blame himself.

“Go back inside, Jonghyun,” Jinki says gently, giving him a warm smile. “I bet Tiffany wants to hear about it.”

“Um,” Jonghyun says again. He glances from Jinki to Taemin quickly, a little smile pulling up his lips again at the idea of reliving the experience through a story. “Yeah, okay. Um--sorry. And--thanks.” Taemin isn’t sure whether those were meant for him or Jinki, but he still watches fondly as Jonghyun shuffles back inside and scuttles to the door behind the receptionist desk.

“Is Tiffany the waitress girl?” he asks when he looks back at Jinki. He’s never been good at names, but he has seen Jonghyun talking to the other waitress quite a bit. Instead of answering, Jinki just continues to frown at him. Shit. So much for that casual conversation changer. He sighs. “Fine,” he grumbles, flipping his bike back on so he can roll into the garage.

 

5  
It’s not even a week after he watches the group of bikers roar away before Jonghyun hears them coming back again. He pauses mid-sentence to turn and squint at the door that leads to the lobby. That can’t be right. It can’t be them. He’s halfway out of his seat when he realizes that he was also halfway through a conversation with Kibum. He grins sheepishly and sinks back down into his seat.

“Uh, sorry,” says, but the cook doesn’t look offended. If anything, he looks amused, like he knows something that Jonghyun doesn’t. He leans back in his chair and crosses his legs, rests his chin in his hand and raises his eyebrows.

“No, go ahead,” he says loftily. “Don’t let me keep you.”

Jonghyun doesn’t like the way he said that. He squints at Kibum suspiciously.

“Keep me from what?” he asks slowly. Kibum’s right eyebrow raises higher into his bangs; his lips stay sealed. Jonghyun knows that look. It’s the look he gives Ryeowook when that quiet musician passes through every month. He purses his lips. “Don’t look at me like that,” he says warningly. He is not as obvious as the other cook. “I don’t even like Taemin,” he says, when Kibum keeps looking at him like that.

“I didn’t say anything about Taemin,” Kibum replies. Jonghyun opens his mouth, then closes it. Fuck. He walked right into that. He humphs, getting out of his seat. Kibum is so smug, just because he’s kind of sort of definitely right. What a dick.

“You know I see you around that Minho dude when we go to town,” he grumbles, sticking his tongue out at Kibum as soon as he sees his smile falter. He’s out of the door before Kibum even has time to start denying it. Ha. That’ll put him in his place. He’s grinning smugly to himself as he scoots behind his sister and around the desk. He should be just in time to watch them--oh.

“Hey, kid.”

This is suddenly a lot of Taemin, very close up. Very close up chest--he’s shirtless under his jacket again--very close up collarbones, very close up lips, very close up eyes. Fuck. Jonghyun blinks, taking a quick step backwards like he thinks it’ll make him less likely to blush. Really, it only makes it worse, because now he can see the way Taemin’s eyebrows and lips twitch up in amusement. This isn’t fair.

“Why are you here?” he blurts out.

Frick. He meant to ask that differently. Like, less rude, he means. Taemin picks up on that--or, at least, he just doesn’t give a shit--and gives him a lazy smile with a lazy shrug.

“Road was closed, or something,” he mumbles. “Jinki said he’d rather stay a few more days here than at the motel there.”

Bless Jinki, truly.

Jonghyun nods because he doesn’t trust himself to not blurt out something else rude at the moment. Glancing around the lobby, he notices the rest of the bikers milling around while Jinki speaks to his sister about rooms. If they’re gonna be here for a few days… at least he’ll be able to actually thank Taemin for the ride the other day. He was worried that after a month or two without talking would make his words useless. And he’ll be able to apologize for getting Taemin in trouble then, too. It wasn’t entirely his fault, but he still feels kind of bad about it.

“Do, um…,” he starts, not really sure what he was planning on saying. “Do you… need anything?” Yeah. That’s a good base to start on. Yes, no, he can roll from there. Taemin hums quietly (a noise that is way too attractive for Jonghyun’s own good) and lifts his hand. Jonghyun looks at it, confused; Taemin lowers it onto Jonghyun’s and laces their fingers together.

“Snuggle me,” he says.

Jonghyun was not prepared for this. In all his life, he doesn’t think he’s ever flushed this quickly before. Why can’t a guy just be secretly infatuated in peace without any bullshit these days?

“Um,” he says, because he figures he should say something, “you mean, like--”

“I mean like, I’m tired and I want you to snuggle me for a little bit outside,” Taemin says. He smothers a yawn into his free hand, most likely for effect. It works; Jonghyun immediately wants to let Taemin nuzzle his lap and take a nap. Damn it. Shouldn’t he want to… go up to his room? Or something? Unpack, unwind, have a bite to eat? Something _other_ than lie in the grass with Jonghyun the moment he sets foot inside of the motel. Taemin tugs on his hand gently, pulling him from his thoughts. “Come on,” he says. “Just for a little bit. Amber wants to go to the town for dinner later anyway. I’ll eat there.”

He’s like a fucking mind reader or something.

His thumb is smoothing absentmindedly over the back of Jonghyun’s hand; up close like this, he smells faintly of motorcycle exhaust, asphalt, and cinnamon.

“Okay,” Jonghyun hears himself agreeing without even really thinking. Okay, yeah, sure, this is a good idea. Taemin just wants a little nap before he goes out to eat. He’s just tired, and weary from all of his travel, and… hot. And he’s really hot. Jonghyun wants to snuggle Taemin because he’s really fucking attractive with his sleepy boy voice and his warm hands and his nice smell. Sure, he still makes Jonghyun blush like there’s no tomorrow, but that happens like, all the time.

He lets Taemin tug him passed the stairs, passed the dining area, and out of the back door, returning his smile shyly when he glances over his shoulder.

Kibum is never gonna let him live this down.


	4. Five times they kissed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re leading him on,” Jinki had said to him.

****1  
Taemin frowns to himself as Jonghyun’s fingers tap eagerly against his leg. They’re having one of their conversation lulls, the ones Jonghyun causes because he feels bad about hounding Taemin for information all of the time. Not that Jonghyun will admit that. Taemin just kind of picked up on the reason because Jonghyun is so easy to read. It’s not why he’s frowning, though; he appreciates Jonghyun’s effort. There’s only so much talking that he wants to do in a day.

He’s frowning because of what Jinki said to him earlier, after he’d finished thanking Jonghyun for bringing his breakfast to the table. He’d barely even started on his bacon when the sudden accusations started. “You can’t keep doing that to him.” “He likes you, you know he does.” “You have to either follow up or stop with what you’re doing.”

Like, wow, he’s just trying to have some breakfast after a month away from his favorite roadside motel. No need for a fucking interrogation. All he did was take his plate from Jonghyun’s hands and smile a little bit. Sure, Jonghyun had blushed a faint pink and shuffled away with a tiny smile, but he does that all the time. And yeah, he absolutely does have a crush on Taemin, but it’s not like that _means_ anything.

“You’re leading him on,” Jinki had said to him. He scoffs. _Leading him on._ Jonghyun’s not naïve. He knows that Taemin isn’t that into him. Jinki is just underestimating him because he’s quiet and shy.

“Hmm?” Jonghyun hums suddenly. Taemin squints open an eye to find Jonghyun blinking at him curiously. Oh, yeah, when he scoffed, that was probably out loud. Whoops. He closes his eyes again, rearranges his legs in Jonghyun’s lap. He’s not leading Jonghyun on. He’ll fucking prove it.

“Do you like me?” he asks.

Perfect plan. Jonghyun’s hand stills against his leg.

“Um,” he says, obviously caught off guard. “I mean--well--yeah.” Taemin can feel Jonghyun’s fingers curling self-consciously into his palm, but he also hears a hint of defiance in Jonghyun’s voice, like he won’t be made to feel ashamed for having a crush. Taemin respects that.

He bets Jonghyun is still blushing, though, and he also bets that it’s cute. Still, he doesn’t think that that’s exactly an interaction he can go to Jinki with to prove that Jonghyun doesn’t mind. He shifts to get more comfortable with his hands behind his head. What was it that Jinki was scolding him about?

“You know… that I’m only here for a few days every couple of months?” he mumbles.

“Yeah,” Jonghyun replies quietly. Taemin thinks he hears a little pout in his voice. He grins lazily to himself. Sounds like _someone_ misses the beauty of his lovely face while he’s gone. He pokes Jonghyun’s side with his boot, wanting him to go back to tapping his fingers on his leg. It felt nice.

“And you know that I’m a piece of shit that doesn’t care about anybody, right?”

“You care about Jinki.”

Taemin frowns. The effortless contradiction, the simple tone, the sure confidence of the quiet statement, all of it bugs him.

“Who told you that?” he asks. Who’s been undermining him and telling everyone his secrets? If it was Amber--they’ve been messing with him lately--

“It’s obvious, when you really care about someone,” Jonghyun says quietly. Taemin scrunches up his face. It’s _obvious_? That’s not right.

“I need to work on that,” he mumbles to himself.

“Hmm,” Jonghyun hums. Taemin detects a faint hint of envy in that hum. He smiles slowly, amused. Like Jonghyun has to worry about any competition from his brother/friend/guardian/whatever-the-fuck figure. He should get them back on track; they were talking about how Jinki thinks Taemin is being unfair.

“My point is,” he starts, cracking open his eyes to peer at Jonghyun in the dim sunset lighting. His point is that he’s never around and he’d be an absolute dick to Jonghyun when he was, and that Jonghyun really shouldn’t have bothered with having a crush on him in the first place.

Or… that was Jinki’s point, wasn’t it? Taemin’s point was… that Jonghyun could decide for himself. That he trusts Jonghyun to know what he wants, and to weigh the pros and cons of this on his own. Taemin for sure wouldn’t object to any kind of relationship they could wind up having. He’s not completely infatuated with Jonghyun like Jonghyun is with him, but he can see himself falling for him, given enough time. He can see Jonghyun being the demi to his aro. He debates for a moment on how to say what it is that he wants to say; after the moment is over, he decides, fuck it. He’s not good with words.

Sitting up slowly, steadying himself on his hand, and leaning forward, he really appreciates how nice Jonghyun’s mouth looks up close, parted like this in a soft breath. He takes Jonghyun’s chin in his free hand gently and tugs him forward until their lips connect.

It’s just a soft press, and then another, and then a third, because he can tell that Jonghyun didn’t really start to get into it until after the first few moments. When he pulls away, he feels a shaky breath against his lips. He grins. He must be a natural at kissing. Never had any practise or anything.

He’s ignoring the fact that Jonghyun’s breath always gets kind of shaky when they get closer than usual, of course.

“My point is,” he mumbles again, opening his eyes and raising amused brows at how pink Jonghyun’s cheeks have gotten, “if you’re okay with all of that bullshit, then….” He trails off and leaves it hanging for Jonghyun to come to his own conclusion. Jonghyun’s hand kind of reaches for his when he lets himself fall back down to get comfortable in the plants again. Their fingers catch for a moment; Jonghyun takes his hand away as quickly as it came, curling it against his side self-consciously. Taemin doesn’t say anything else, but he closes his eyes and leaves his arm out in a clear invitation for Jonghyun to join him in a cuddle.

After a short pause, Jonghyun takes it, lying down next to Taemin in the grass and resting his arm over his chest.

 

2  
Jonghyun passes Taemin as he’s coming down the stairs and Taemin is just starting to shuffle up. He didn’t even hear Taemin coming back from wherever he’s been all day with a couple of the other bikers. To be honest, though, he’s been kind of spacing out all day, ever since Taemin caught him cleaning up empty rooms after the early checkouts and gave him a morning kiss. He didn’t think the evening before was a dream or anything, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t spend half of the time he was supposed to be sleeping thinking about it.

He thought of a lot of things; a lot of things that got way too complicated and “what if” for his tastes. He’ll figure out what will happen later later, when it happens. Right now, he’s thinking that Taemin has a strawberry slushie cup and his lips are stained a pretty red color. That’s what’s important to him at this moment.

“Hey, kid,” Taemin says, smiling tiredly up at him around his straw. Jonghyun smiles almost easily back. The fondness in Taemin’s eyes whenever he looks at him is really starting to mess with him. He thinks Taemin is doing it on purpose.

“Hey,” he says. “Are you--are you going up to bed?” He gestures over his shoulder up the stairs. He knows that he was about to, as soon as he checked with his sister to see if she needed help with anything. Taemin pulls off of his straw and licks his lips, humming in confirmation.

“Yeah, I’m pretty tired,” he replies. Jonghyun assumes that he means sleepy tired instead of the general state of laziness that he seems to spend his life in and nods.

“Okay, uh,” he says. He scoots down the next couple of steps until he’s just one above Taemin. Ignoring the quickening of his heart in his chest, he leans forward and presses their mouths together softly. He only kisses Taemin long enough to register the chill of his lips from his slushie. When he pulls away, he bites his own lip happily because Taemin leaned forward a little bit, like he wanted to follow. “Um--goodnight,” he says. He brings his hand halfway up (to wave or some kind of bullshit that would embarrass him greatly, probably), then curls his fingers into his palm and just smiles instead, scooting around Taemin and shuffling passed him to the lobby.

He hears Taemin heading up the steps behind him and smiles, mildly proud of himself. He’d been wanting to do that since last night. Kiss Taemin himself, he means. He wants to do it more, to really get used to the feeling, because--well, because he can. He’s allowed to kiss Taemin almost whenever he wants. And that’s a nice thought.

“You are nineteen years old.”

“God-- _jesus_ \--what the fuck, Kibum?” Jonghyun puts his hand over his heart, because now it’s beating in a decidedly unpleasant way, and frowns as hard as he can at his friend. Kibum just frowns right back at him from where he’s leaning casually up against the wall. He’s literally right around the corner in a perfect ambush position. Who the fuck does that? Kibum effortlessly ignores his indignation and shakes his head like he’s disappointed.

“You are nineteen and a half years old and you’re giving that kid shy little pecks like a blushing schoolboy.”

“Were you spying on me? What the fuck, dude?”

“Have a little dignity, Jonghyun.”

Jonghyun frowns even harder than before, if that’s possible. _Dignity_. He’s got plenty of dignity. He humphs in Kibum’s general direction and flounces away to the break room, head held high.

As he closes the door behind him, he bites his lip again to hold back too big of a smile.

A goodnight kiss. He’s always wanted to do that.

 

3  
Jonghyun is supposed to be closing all of the windows of the empty rooms to keep all of the warm in as the sky darkens outside.

What he’s doing instead is pressing himself up one of said closed windows, watching as the bikers roll into the parking lot.

He’s eager to see all of the bikes as usual, but this time, there’s a second layer of excitement inside of him. They’ve been gone for two months, and, by extension, it’s been two months since he’s last seen Taemin. Part of him says that it’s not any different from usual. A second part tells him that it absolutely is. He’s listening to that second part because… how could it not be?

He doesn’t even know how he’s supposed to react when they meet again. He’ll be happy, yeah, but what if he’s too happy? What if he’s too clingy? He already knows that he’s a clingy shit. He doesn’t think it’s a bad thing--like, hey, he’s literally always open for snuggles--but what if Taemin does? There’s not even any guarantee that Taemin will still be up for their relationship, or whatever this thing that they’ve started is. He didn’t even say goodbye when he left last time.

He can see Taemin from up here. He’s parking his bike in one of the spaces in front of the motel. That’s… different. Usually, the bikers kind of just park all in a jumble in the middle of the lot for a few minutes while Jinki gets garage passes for everyone. That’s what all of the other bikers are doing right now. Jonghyun stands there, pondering why Taemin is different today.

As the bikers all file inside the front door, Taemin among them, Jonghyun turns his pondering to what he should do now. Should he go down there to greet Taemin? Or maybe he could just find him out back in the bushes later. Or should he just act like he’s not overjoyed to see him and greet him casually whenever it is that they meet? He doesn’t _know_. He never thought about shit like this when he was romanticizing his possible future romances. He groans, rubbing his hands over his face. He’s overthinking this. He really is. What he needs to do is finish closing all of the windows before some of the bikers decide that they’d like a nap before dinner.

He’s backing out of the final room and locking it when he hears footsteps coming up the stairs. He grins to himself. Just in time.

Though… that was pretty fast. He doesn’t think he even heard them all moving into the garage. Maybe it’s one of the people that were already here, he thinks as he jams his keys into his pocket and turns around.

Oh.

No.

It’s Taemin.

It’s Taemin and he’s shuffling up the steps casually, pushing his bangs out of his face and looking around. His gaze falls on Jonghyun and he smiles, just a tiny quirk of his lips. Jonghyun stands there, caught off guard, as Taemin slouches up to him, cups his face with cold hands, and presses a couple of soft, slow pecks to his lips.

“Hey,” he murmurs when he pulls back.

“Uh… hey,” Jonghyun replies breathlessly. He’s a little dazed. That certainly solved all of his problems from a few minutes ago. He kind of wants to…. He leans forward and presses their lips together again. Taemin hums against his mouth and Jonghyun smiles, sucking lightly on his lower lip before he pulls back this time.

“Look,” Taemin says, raising an eyebrow and slipping his hand down to tangle his fingers with Jonghyun’s. “I still kinda like you.”

“You… oh.” That’s not… a greeting that Jonghyun was expecting. And it doesn’t exactly fill him with confidence, either. He’s still kinda liked? He doesn’t even really know what that means. His gaze falls to their fingers twined together by their hips. He thought he was a little more important than that.

“Your sister said you’d be up here,” Taemin says softly. Something in his voice draws Jonghyun’s eyes back up to meet his again, and something in his eyes makes Jonghyun bite his lip and think. They’re dark and hooded like usual, but there’s a certain insistence in there like he needs Jonghyun to understand what he’s saying. He thinks back to what Taemin told him before he first kissed him two months ago, and what Jinki pulled him aside to tell him later that day. Stuff about Taemin never being straightforward with how he feels, always trying to hide his true affection for people and acting like he doesn’t care. Even Jonghyun himself, when Taemin told him he didn’t really care about anyone, could tell that he was lying. Maybe he’s just missing some important detail?

His sister, Taemin had said. He’d asked Sodam where he could find Jonghyun, and he’d come right up to find him after. And… outside, he parked in a spot instead of waiting the few extra minutes it would take to get parked in the garage. Seeing Jonghyun was the very first thing he wanted to do once he got back. Not getting something to eat, not going outside for his nap in the bushes, not getting a room key… but finding Jonghyun.

If Taemin’s way of saying that the most important thing to him after two months away was to see Jonghyun as soon as possible is that he “still kinda likes” him… Jonghyun doesn’t think he really minds that wording. He smiles.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he says, leaning forward again for another quick kiss. Taemin might keep everything inside, but Jonghyun likes to let people know just how happy they make him. Taemin grins back at him when he pulls away, bringing his free hand up to rub his nose.

“Thanks,” he mumbles. He lets go of Jonghyun’s hand, then slips around so he’s behind him instead. Jonghyun looks over his shoulder in confusion until Taemin’s arms drape over his shoulders. Taemin rests his head on Jonghyun’s shoulder as well, pressing up warmly against his back.

“Um,” he says, mildly flustered by the sudden closeness. He’s pretty sure that he has the entire weight of the biker on him now and he’s not sure what he’s supposed to do with it. It was gradual--Taemin didn’t just throw himself onto Jonghyun--and he’s not horridly weak or anything, so he guesses that he can’t really complain. He suspects that Taemin has a lot of practise with getting this kind of response from doing the same thing to Jinki all of the time.

“Come on, kid,” Taemin mumbles, voice soft and soothing next to his ear. “Where to next?”

Jonghyun doesn’t really think that Taemin is being so warm and attractive on purpose, but he tells himself that anyway so he feels less embarrassed about flushing bright pink. He can feel Taemin’s lips moving against his neck, damn it. This isn’t fair.

“U-um,” he says, trying to remember exactly what the fuck his plans actually were after he finished closing all of the windows for the night. It’s Thursday. He thinks. Thursday nights usually end up with him sweeping the lobby floor so it’ll be clean before all of the vacationers get it dirty again over the weekend. “Sweeping,” he says. Taemin responds to that with an unhappy groan.

“Do you have to?” he whines. “Not like I’m trying to nap or anything...” he trails off into disgruntled sounding mumbles, then fades back in, “...moving all over the place and shit.” Jonghyun scoffs lightly, incredulous. Trying to nap, he’d said. Like he can actually fall asleep half standing up like this. Still, though… he does like having Taemin’s warmth pressed up against his back. He rolls his shoulders gently, grinning to himself when Taemin whines.

“I’ll go slow,” he promises. Taemin hums against his shoulder.

 

4  
It’s one day later and Jonghyun has kissed Taemin exactly seven times so far. Once in the morning when they passed on the stairs, once after he got up after breakfast, once when he came back from the little convenience store in town with Jinki, three times while they were laying out back in the grass, and once more when his break was over and he went back inside.

Not that Taemin is keeping track, or anything.

No, what Taemin is doing is groggily shuffling down the stairs with some bills crumpled in his hand because his stomach decided that it wanted a midnight strawberry fruit rollup. If it just so happens, that while he’s leaning up against the vending machine in the lobby, his mind wanders to how soft Jonghyun’s lips are, how he nibbled on Taemin’s bottom lip earlier outside, and how he makes these cute little humming noises whenever he pulls away, then, well, he can’t be held responsible for that. He’s just tired, and not much else happened during his day. Of course he’d remember the kisses.

His candy tumbles to the bottom of the machine and he bends over to grab it, fumbling around for the little package for probably too long in his half-asleep state. Once he gets it, he fumbles again to collect his change from the coin holder. He’s halfway between deciding that he doesn’t really give a shit if someone else finds the last quarter he can’t pull out when he hears a door quietly being closed. He looks around, confused, until his gaze lands on the door behind the front desk, faintly illuminated by the desk light.

Someone is backing away from it quietly--someone familiar. Really familiar. Like, Jonghyun familiar. Oh. He watches Jonghyun struggle with whatever he’s carrying fondly. He kind of wants… an eighth kiss for the end of his day. Or--is it a first kiss at the very start? He doesn’t know if it’s before or after midnight. That’s not the point though. The point is….

“Hey,” he calls softly. Jonghyun doesn’t jump, doesn’t make a startled little noise or anything; he turns clumsily with a little hum, one hand rubbing at his eye. When he sees Taemin, his lips curve up into a little smile under a fringe of mussed hair. Wow, he’s cute. Cute and sleepy. Isn’t that Taemin’s thing? That’s not fair. He’s stealing Taemin’s thing and using it against him. Rude.

“What are you doing down here?” Jonghyun shuffles out from behind the front desk and up to Taemin, leaning up against him and nuzzling his neck. Frick. Tired, sleepy, gives-no-shits Jonghyun has returned. This is kind of better, though; with Jonghyun’s face in his neck, he can’t be distracted by how cute it is. He yawns, reaching up to pat Jonghyun’s head lazily.

“Midnight snack,” he mumbles, holding up his candy. Jonghyun shuffles a couple of steps back to peer at the package in his hand with a fond little smile.

“Me too,” he replies, holding up a little paper towel-wrapped bundle. He opens it up clumsily to reveal peanut butter sandwich crackers. Fuck, that’s cute.

And… tempting. Taemin wants one.

“Mmm,” he says, taking one for himself. Jonghyun whines softly. He pouts when Taemin takes a bite; Taemin leans down to press a kiss to his puffed up lips after he swallows. “Thanks,” he grins. He’ll let Jonghyun have some of his fruit rollup or something. Fair trade. Jonghyun hums, kissing him again. He thinks Jonghyun likes kissing him. It boosts his ego, a little bit.

“Well…” Jonghyun mumbles. “Good night.” He turns and starts walking away; Taemin frowns. He doesn’t want Jonghyun to leave. He wants Jonghyun to stay.

He doesn’t think they can just spend the night here in the lobby, though. He smothers a yawn in his hand, trying to think of the next best solution to his problem.

“Sleep with me,” is what his mouth says for him.

Hmm. Good plan. Maybe not the best execution. Jonghyun hums, a sleepy little sound of confusion, and turns to face Taemin again. Taemin can’t really tell, but he’s going to pretend that he can see a faint blush on Jonghyun’s cheeks in the dim light of the front desk lamp. It’s cute, in his imagination.

“What do you mean?” Jonghyun asks. Taemin opens his mouth to say something; a yawn comes out instead, so he covers his mouth with the back of his hand. He kind of just wants to eat his fruit rollup and go to bed. He moves his hand from his mouth to his hair when his yawn is done.

“I mean, like…” he mumbles, slouching forward to take Jonghyun’s free hand in his and play with his fingers. “Come up to my room with me and lie in my bed with me and snuggle me and... just… sleep with me.” This is a really nice plan that he has in his head. Full of nuzzling Jonghyun’s warm chest and making him blush with little kisses against his neck until he falls asleep. And stealing another cracker sandwich. Jonghyun gives him another thoughtful hum.

“I have to be up early, though,” he says. “For work.” Taemin wrinkles his nose. Oh yeah. The whole… job thing. Ew. He shrugs, rubbing his thumb over the back of Jonghyun’s hand.

“Don’t wake me up when you get up, then,” he shrugs. Like, simple. He doesn’t think he’d mind not waking up with Jonghyun snuggled up on him. He just wants the falling asleep part. Jonghyun shifts his weight from foot to foot, like he’s debating his options. Taemin does his best to look hot and snuggly. It’s his natural state of being, so he doesn’t have to try too hard. It works, at any rate, if the way a little grin creeps onto Jonghyun’s face means anything.

“Okay,” he says, and Taemin is really starting to like that word coming from Jonghyun’s lips. He smiles to match Jonghyun and leans down to kiss him again, just because. This time, Jonghyun really does blush, just a little bit. He wiggles his hand in Taemin’s so he can lace their fingers together and Taemin lets himself be led back up the stairs, grinning at how Jonghyun avoids looking at him on the way up, cheeks darkening with every step.

5  
“Hey.”

“That’s my line.” Taemin frowns halfheartedly and shifts to lean his back against the window next to the front door. He was leaning his shoulder against it and peering outside, watching Kibum watch the others mess around in the parking lot, but now he’s looking at Jonghyun instead as he slips up close. He keeps stealing pieces of Taemin’s aesthetic. As he leans up and steals a kiss, too, though, Taemin doesn’t think he really minds. It’s cute to see how he’s rubbing off on Jonghyun. He lets Jonghyun lace their fingers and sucks lightly on his upper lip as he pulls away, just to hear him make that happy little noise that he makes.

“Are you leaving now?” Jonghyun asks, gesturing outside with a nod of the head.

“Yeah, in a few, I guess,” Taemin mumbles, shrugging in response. He’s been waiting for Jinki to come and tell him to scoot. He curls the fingers of his free hand guiltily in his jacket, where Jonghyun can’t see. He didn’t tell Jonghyun that he was leaving that day two months ago. He didn’t know that he was _supposed_ to, until Jinki frowned at him for not doing it. It’s not like he’d never left _before_. Jonghyun knew that he was going to leave, right? So why would he have to go and _find_ him just to tell him?

Though at the same time… the whole two months he was away, Jonghyun kept floating back into his mind. Maybe he hurt him? He’s little and fragile. Well--not fragile. He knows that Jonghyun is more mature underneath all of the shyness. Still, though--leaving without a word like he did was probably a dick move. He tried to make it up to Jonghyun when he got back, and he’s sure that Jonghyun understood what he meant, but he’s still weird about it all. He’s kind of thankful that Jonghyun’s come to him this time.

And just in time, too: Taemin glances over Jonghyun’s shoulder to see Jinki walking away from the front desk, all checked out and ready to go. He gives Taemin a pointed look and a raised eyebrow as he slips out of the door; Taemin makes a face back at him. Like, rude. He’s saying goodbye right now. He doesn’t need a reminder for something he’s already doing. He looks back at Jonghyun, disgruntled.

“Well, anyway,” he murmurs, gesturing outside. He probably has a few minutes. Jonghyun nods with an amused little smile.

“Be, um. You know. Be safe.” He laughs softly, like it’s just a casual thing to say, just a regular old send off. Taemin notices, though, how Jonghyun’s hand squeezes his tighter, how he shifts just a little bit closer, how there’s a quiet insistence in his eyes, like he needs Taemin to understand what he’s saying.

Taemin does understand.

He understands that Jonghyun is stealing more of his aesthetic.

He doesn’t think Jonghyun is doing this one on purpose, though. This time, he thinks Jonghyun just doesn’t want to admit how scared he is that Taemin might not come back in one piece. He also thinks that Jonghyun doesn’t know how obvious his emotions are all the time. At least Taemin makes people work a little bit to figure out if he’s being serious or not. He smiles softly when Jonghyun continues to look so small and worried, leaning down to press their lips together in a reassuring--but also casually indifferent--kiss.

“Hmm,” he hums. “I’ll try.” When he pulls back, Jonghyun is smiling at him with security in his eyes instead of worry. He gets it. Good. He doesn’t know exactly what he’s supposed to do next, but he finds that a lot of things in life become easy if he acts like he knows what he’s doing, even if he’s just going on guesswork. He slips away from Jonghyun, letting their hands slide apart as he turns to face the door. “Well, later,” he mumbles, waving over his shoulder. He stuffs his hands into his pockets and saunters away towards the garage for his bike. That was good. Yeah.

When he slips into the garage, he’s immediately leaned into by Amber, who grins in his face and pokes his cheek.

“Smoochy smoochy,” they singsong, wiggling their finger against his cheek. He scrunches up his face. Like they don’t spend ten minutes making out with their girlfriend as a goodbye. He humphs and slouches to his bike, jamming his helmet onto his head and swinging his leg over it. Sungmin and Sunny come over to tease him about Jonghyun too, and he grumps at them as well, but as he nudges his bike out into the parking lot, he sees Jonghyun still standing in the doorway, watching him.

He grins to himself, just a tiny twitch of his lips, watching Jonghyun lean against the doorway from the secrecy of his helmet. Seeing Jonghyun there, wanting to watch him leave, makes him feel important. The knowledge that someone is here, waiting for him, eagerly anticipating his return… that this is a place where he--specifically him--will be wanted….

It’s a nice feeling.


	5. Five times for the first time (M)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Can I have some condoms?” he asks again. “And lube?” He takes his straw off of his platter, ripping off the end and blowing the rest of the wrapper onto Jinki’s leg. Jinki grabs it, crumples it up, and bounces it off of his cheek.  
>  **tw for underage sex things bc taem is still seventeen**

****1  
Taemin thinks that asking Jonghyun to sleep with him two months ago was the best thing he’s done so far in his life. This is the third time he’s been back since then, and it’s the third time in two months that he’s gotten to fall asleep with Jonghyun on top of him, a comforting, heavy weight on his chest and a warm face pressing kisses against his neck. It’s just… so nice.

He lifts his hands up to cup Jonghyun’s chin, tugging him up to kiss him properly, on the mouth. He’s not completely tired yet; some sloppy makeouts would be good right about now, before they turn off the lights. Jonghyun hums against his lips, shifting into a more comfortable position and resting his forearms on either side of Taemin’s head. His lips are soft, plush, and dominant; once he got over his shyness about kissing, Jonghyun certainly stepped up his lip game. Sometimes Taemin finds it hard to keep up with how eager Jonghyun gets. Those moments don’t usually last too long, though, because it only really happens when they’re sharing kisses in bed before they sleep. Jonghyun still gets a little blushy when Taemin kisses him in front of people.

At times like this, though, Taemin can slip his hands down to Jonghyun’s waist, slip his thumbs under his loose tank to feel his skin, and smirk when he feels him shiver. He pushes his hands fully under the shirt and slides them around to his back. The sound that Jonghyun makes when Taemin lets his nails drag just lightly against his skin is one that Taemin decides right then that he likes: kind of a halfway point between a whine and a moan. He moves one hand back down, down to the hem of Jonghyun’s pajama bottoms, slipping his fingertips just under to see if he’s down for some butt touching, to gauge his comfort level.

It’s extremely fucking high, apparently, if the way Jonghyun’s hips move down to press against Taemin’s at the first press of his fingers means anything. Taemin isn’t one to get excited easily from just looking at people--he needs a little something something, a few minutes to really get into the feel of things. He thinks that the way Jonghyun moves to press hot kisses against his neck, to roll his hips slowly but firmly against his, to thread the fingers of one hand into his hair, might be just what it takes to get him in the mood. He bites his lip, lifting one hand to press Jonghyun’s head more into his neck and moving the other to cup Jonghyun’s ass outside of his pajama bottoms. Jonghyun breathes out a curse.

“I’ve been… been waiting,” he murmurs between sucking lightly at Taemin’s skin. “Been wanting, to….” he trails off, but Taemin knows what he means. He himself hasn’t really been shivering in anticipation, but Jonghyun could definitely get him in the mood if he keeps acting this way. He swallows thickly, shifting Jonghyun into a better position with a hand on his hip. If he’s been waiting for so long, Taemin will let him take charge, trust in his experience to steer this to where he’s comfortable.

“Come on, then, kid,” he breathes.

Jonghyun’s hips still completely; he lifts up from sucking on Taemin’s neck to frown down at him with a confused little pout.

“What?” he asks. Taemin frowns back. What ‘what.’ “What do you mean, ‘come on, kid?’” Jonghyun continues. His voice is still kind of breathy, kind of low. “You’re the one that’s had sex before.”

“I have not.” Taemin feels like he should be more offended by that accusation. Maybe he will be when he’s less sleepy. Right now, he’s just confused. Does he look like someone that regularly has sex? He never thinks about that when he’s thinking about how to present himself to people.

“But you’re in a _biker gang,_ ” Jonghyun says, emphasizing the words like they mean anything about Taemin’s sexual habits. Taemin scoffs, wiggling to a more comfortable position against his pillow. He moves his hand from Jonghyun’s butt, too, for good measure.

“I’m seventeen and I like twinks,” he mumbles. “You think I’d fuck some forty-year-old bear at a fucking truck stop or something?”

“Did you just call me a twink?”

“You’re nineteen. You should know what you’re doing.”

Neither of them know what they’re doing. That much becomes obvious after another few minutes of sleepy squabbling. They don’t have condoms or lube, either, and the more Taemin thinks about it… the more he thinks it’s better that they don’t have what they need just now. Maybe it’s his inner Jinki talking, but he feels like they should talk more about this before they just jump right in. About like… boundaries and shit. Comfort zones. Sexualities? Taemin isn’t exactly allosexual himself. He doesn’t want Jonghyun getting all beat up by finding out that Taemin isn’t aroused by _him_ as much as just the stimulation in the middle of sex. He doesn’t think it would bother Jonghyun too much, but he’d rather tell him before than during.

This isn’t the right time.

Taemin slips his arms around Jonghyun’s shoulders mid “not a twink” argument, tugging the twink down on top of him and rolling them over so he’s on top. He can feel his half-boner against his thigh, though he’s sure that by now it’s halfway down instead of halfway up. Jonghyun grunts, squished. Taemin hums, comfortable.

“I’m tired,” he mumbles. “Wanna sleep.”

“Oh.” There’s a tiny hint of disappointment in his voice, but it’s mostly simple acceptance, understanding. That’s good. “You’re squishing me,” Jonghyun says next, words muffled. Taemin grins lazily. That may or may not have been the plan when he rolled them over. He takes a deep breath and rolls them back again, though, hauling Jonghyun with him so he can be squished down instead. He’s more comfortable like this anyway. Flapping a hand over to his bedside lamp, he flicks it off so they’re snuggling in darkness.

“Night,” he murmurs, rubbing his cheek into his pillow. There’s a pause, and then Jonghyun is shifting, sinking down just enough to rest his head on Taemin’s chest and struggling to fix the blankets over them. He gets settled after a moment and presses a kiss to Taemin’s shirt.

“Nighty night,” he whispers back.

 

2  
When he wakes up the next afternoon, Taemin has a plan. A brilliant, well thought out plan that’s better than any plan he’s ever had. He goes over it while he’s rubbing sleep out of his eyes in the shower, while he’s towelling himself dry, and while he's picking a shirt at random from the neat row in his bag that Jinki’s always telling him to messy up.

As he shuffles downstairs for lunch--because he sure as fuck missed breakfast--he puts the final touches on his plan. He finds Jinki sitting at a booth in the corner, reading the paper like a nerd; slouching into the seat next to him, he leans into his shoulder comfortably.

“Morning,” Jinki says, absentmindedly pushing Taemin’s wet hair out of his face. Taemin shakes it back into his eyes and leans more of his weight on Jinki.

“Did you order for me already?” he asks. Jinki nods, glancing at the kitchen.

“Yeah,” he says. “Actually….” He trails off, and when Taemin glances up, he finds out why: Jonghyun is slipping out of it, trays of food balanced expertly in his hands. Perfect timing. Taemin hums fondly. Jonghyun’s really cute when he’s working and shit. He yawns against Jinki’s shoulder, putting his perfect plan into play as soon as Jonghyun reaches their booth.

“Can I have some condoms?” he asks. “I wanna bang Jonghyun.”

Almost immediately, Jonghyun’s face turns pinker than it has in months. The last time Taemin saw him this flushed is back during the first times they met. He wasn’t planning on asking Jinki for condoms right in front of Jonghyun, but this certainly is an added perk. He’s pretty sure that if Jonghyun hadn’t already put their food down, he would have dropped it. As it is, he doesn’t even remember to tell them to enjoy their meal before he scuttles away, back to the kitchens. Taemin laughs quietly to himself. He’s so cute. When he turns back to Jinki, though, he’s frowning. Taemin frowns too.

“What?” he asks.

“Don’t do that to him, you gaping anus,” Jinki scolds. He reaches for Taemin’s milk carton to open it for him even as Taemin scoffs. Jonghyun blushes like, all the fucking time. And it’s not like he’ll be objected to Taemin trying to get them what they need.

Maybe he’ll give Jonghyun an extra kiss later, though, just because. For now, though--

“Can I have some condoms?” he asks again. “And lube?” He takes his straw off of his platter, ripping off the end and blowing the rest of the wrapper onto Jinki’s leg. Jinki grabs it, crumples it up, and bounces it off of his cheek. Taemin scrunches up his face. “Rude,” he mutters, sitting up straight so he can eat his brunch.

“I thought you were ace?” Jinki asks. Taemin doesn’t answer for a moment, tugging his strawberries closer instead and grabbing a sugar packet for them. Yes, he is ace, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to have sex. He looked it up a few months ago, on Kyuhyun’s laptop when they were at his place. He forgets the word for it, but it started with a C and it was hard to pronounce and it was a label for asexual people that still wanted to have a sexual relationship. He might not want to do everything, but he’ll figure that out when the time comes.

“I still get boners, though,” he says, when he feels like Jinki’s starting to get impatient waiting for an answer. Jinki’s reaction to his stunning and well-thought out reply is a deep, slow sigh and a roll of the eyes. Taemin grins. Nailed it.

“I’ll get you some condoms from the liquor store in town,” Jinki says. “But I don’t think they’ll have any good lube. You’ll have to wait if you want to do anything.” He snatches Taemin’s third sugar packet out of his hands, ignoring Taemin’s glare over his not-sweet-enough strawberries. Taemin humphs at him, taking a bite of a berry anyway.

“I’ll get some off of Amber,” he shrugs.

“Amber needs it for their girlfriend,” Jinki says. Taemin waves a flippant hand as he swallows.

“Luna’s on, like, the other side of the country,” he says dismissively. “They don’t need it right now.” He pushes his strawberries to the side and pulls his plate of hash browns and chicken nuggets closer instead. Another eye roll judges him from his side, which he ignores.

“Well, you should still wait a bit anyway,” Jinki tells him. “You can’t just jump into it, Taemin, you need to talk ab--”

“I know, Jinki. God.” He had his inner Jinki telling him all of this last night and everything. He doesn’t need it from _real_ Jinki now. Jonghyun’s the one that wanted to hurry things up last night anyway. Jinki frowns at him, that really distracting frown that stops him from eating a whole nugget in one bite. “What?”

“I’m serious, Taemin,” he says. “You need to talk to him, and--and look this shit up. Do some research or something.”

“I’m not gonna fucking google how to have anal intercourse, Jinki,” Taemin says, dropping his wrist to the table. Like, no. He gets the general idea. He’s not going to--

“Do you want me to tell you all about it instead? I will. You know I will.” Jinki’s arm is creeping threateningly around his shoulders, like he’s gonna hold Taemin to his side and keep him there until he’s fully explained the intricacies of the birds and the bees in excruciating detail. Taemin doesn’t doubt him for a fucking second. He wiggles away, taking Jinki’s arm firmly and moving it back to its owner’s side.

“Oh my god. Fine.” He pushes lightly on Jinki’s arm to get it to stay there as an amused grin creeps onto Jinki’s lips. “I’ll borrow Kibum’s phone. I’ll just--I’ll do it myself.” And he really will, because he knows that Jinki is going to check with Kibum to make sure. He grumps as he steals an onion ring from Jinki’s plate.

 

3  
Taemin yawns into his hand as he surveys the shelves of gum and candy. He always forgets if this is the place with his favorite gum or not, so he’s double checking just to make sure that it’s not actually here and he didn’t just miss it. After a third check, he sighs a resigned sigh instead and grabs something else instead, a gum that he kinda likes when he’s in the mood for it. He adds it to the chips and white chocolate bar in his hand as he wanders over the next couple of aisles until he finds Jinki grabbing a water bottle from the coolers in the back.

“Hey,” he mumbles. “Did you get my condoms?” Jinki hands him the water bottle instead of answering, and then grabs another one and closes the cooler door. Taemin’s not holding that one if he tries to give it to him.

“Yeah,” Jinki says. He tosses three little boxes into Taemin’s arms, which Taemin fumbles clumsily with and almost drops. He narrows his eyes at Jinki with the condom boxes bunched up against his chest. Jinki smiles innocently back and slips passed him, tugging on his shoulder to get him to follow. Taemin does, albeit grumpily.

“Why three?” he asks, curious.

“Different brands feel different, one brand’s sizing is different from another’s, one of those is strawberry flavored,” Jinki lists. He leads Taemin up to the front counter, where he places his water bottle and Taemin lets all of the crap in his arms spill out. “You should be buying these, you know,” he says, even as he lets the cashier ring everything up into one purchase. Taemin shrugs, picking up a little toy next to the register and inspecting it before putting it back.

“Probably,” he says. The cashier tells Jinki his total and Taemin grabs the strawberry condom box to read the back. He snorts at the bad erotic writing, turning it around and looking at the other labels and designs until the cashier hands him the bag full of everything else with a polite wish of a good day. “Oh--thanks,” Taemin mumbles, taking it. “You too.” He ignores Jinki’s amused grin--like being nice to underpaid workers is such an unusual thing for him to do--and dumps the condoms in the bag too.

He digs through it as they enter the parking lot because he wants a piece of gum right now. He swings his leg over his bike at the same time that Jinki revs his on. Glancing up, a thought suddenly occurs to him when Jinki backs out of his spot and grabs his helmet. He puffs his lips in a pout as he fumbles with the plastic of the pack.

“Hey,” he mumbles, just loud enough to be heard over the low rumble of Jinki’s bike. Jinki turns to him, humming in question. Taemin first takes a piece of gum for himself, then offers the pack to Jinki. “You have your own condoms,” he states as a fact. Jinki raises an eyebrow in reply, which only makes Taemin pout more. No need for the cocky acknowledgement. Taemin knows that he gets laid often. He’s just trying to work some logic here. “Why’d you buy me three boxes when you could’ve just given me some of yours?” he asks. Jinki’s lips curve into a wide grin, one of his rare smirks.

“Because my dick is bigger than yours.”

He fits his helmet over his head and drives away with a louder-than-necessary roar of his bike before Taemin can even think about getting offended.

 

4  
_“Make sure you and your partner are both on the same page about if you are going to use condoms or not so there are no surprises!”_

Taemin blinks blearily at the words on the phone, scrolling down to see if there’s more after it. There isn’t, so he scrolls all the way back up to the top. He’d have thought that the bit about condoms would be first, the most important, not just a little paragraph tacked on as an afterthought. As it is, what he’s learned from the rest of the article is more about the digestive tract than he ever cared remember from biology and that he shouldn’t finger Jonghyun with the same hand hand he jacks him off with.

Which is good information to know, he guesses, but still. He was hoping to find some more interesting stuff. Maybe he’ll go back and find that article on prostate orgasms and fingering. It’ll probably tell him to wear fancy soft gloves, just like the one he just finished reading did, but he’s sure that they’re not essential. Just recommended, for easier clean up or whatever.

“I didn’t know you had a phone.”

The only thing that saved Taemin from dropping Kibum’s phone onto his face is his years of pretending not to give a shit about anything; he didn’t even hear Jonghyun slip out of the back door, let alone walk all the way across the back yard to get to him. He choses to think that Jonghyun didn’t see the tiny way that he jumped and leans his head just slightly to the left of the phone so he can see him wandering up. He’s still wearing his cleaning boy apron: he must be just starting his break. Taemin hums lazily as he exits out of the internet browser and stuffs the phone into his jacket pocket.

“Not my phone,” he shrugs. “Kibum let me borrow it.”

“Uh--Kibum?” Jonghyun tilts his head in confusion as he lowers himself to his knees in front of Taemin. Taemin sits up slowly, scoots forward and tugs on Jonghyun to get him to move behind him. Once he obliges, Taemin rests his head in his lap and closes his eyes. He wonders for a moment why a name would confuse Jonghyun so much until he remembers part of a conversation from before. Jonghyun knows a Kibum as well; he’s one of the cooks at the motel.

“My Kibum,” he clarifies. “The quiet one. Dark hair. Dark blue paint, light blue highlights.” He throws the color of Kibum’s bike in as an afterthought, since Jonghyun probably knows those by heart. It seems to work; Jonghyun nods in understanding almost immediately. His fingers are playing with Taemin’s shoulders where his jacket slipped down earlier, rubbing circles under his skin, slipping casually under his tank. It’s soothing, and Taemin finds himself dozing off against his leg easily.

“What were you reading?”

“Mmgh.” Taemin groans unhappily at Jonghyun’s question. He has such bad timing. He supposes it’s for the best, though. If he didn’t bring it up, Taemin would’ve forgotten that he was supposed to talk about sex things with him. Sex things and butt stuff. He nuzzles sleepily against Jonghyun’s thigh, shifting to get more comfortable and grabbing for his wrist to hold.

“I got us condoms,” he murmurs. “And lube.” The lube actually cost him something; Amber made him write them an IOU for a “to be determined” favor, which he’s kind of suspicious about. He’ll worry about that when it happens, though. He’s too lazy to think about it now. Jonghyun makes a little noise and shifts under him.

“I noticed, yeah,” he mutters. Taemin grins. He’d already forgotten about Jonghyun overhearing him ask Jinki earlier that day. Jonghyun humphs, just a tiny little grumpy noise, and pokes Taemin’s neck. “I have lube too,” he says. “I, um. Already had it.” Taemin doesn’t even have to look to know that Jonghyun is blushing from that admittance. He just raises his eyebrows until Jonghyun humphs again, fingers curling self-consciously into the collar of Taemin’s tank. “It’s better than lotion or spit, okay,” he says defensively. Taemin just smiles, patting Jonghyun’s hand.

“I know,” he says. “Not from experience, but.” He shrugs. A moment later, he grimaces, lifting his hand from Jonghyun’s to scratch his cheek. He should probably…. “And... speaking of experience… I don’t know how much you’re really gonna get from me.” He’d been thinking about it, earlier: the things that he’d be comfortable with doing--as of now, anyway. There’s not really that many.

“Hmm? How do you mean?” Jonghyun sounds more curious than disappointed or angry, so that’s a good sign. Taemin shrugs half-heartedly and turns on his side, head comfortable on Jonghyun’s thigh.

“I don’t know, it’s… hard to explain,” he mumbles. “I’m ace, but--”

“Hey, me too.” Taemin cracks open an eye at Jonghyun’s bright voice; above him, he’s smiling, looking like he’s proud to have scored himself a boyfriend that’s also on the spectrum. Taemin’s glad, too; it’ll be somewhat easier to explain this then, if Jonghyun’s already familiar with the whole asexual thing. He closes his eyes again as Jonghyun clarifies: “Well, grey ace. Grey like, it’s only been you and maybe one or two others that I’ve ever, um. You know.” His fingers play with Taemin’s hair and Taemin wishes that he hadn’t closed his eyes yet so he could see the way Jonghyun is blushing again.

“I know,” he says. “I’m not grey, I’m just… ace,” he continues quietly. “But if you try, you’ll get me hard, so…. And I still wanna… kinda?" This is the hard to explain part. He frowns against the material of Jonghyun’s work pants. He’d been thinking about it since he finished his breakfast-lunch, but he still hasn’t really figured it out yet. He feels like he should have before this, but that’s a problem that already happened. Too late to prevent now. Jonghyun hums in question and he realizes that he’s gone silent in his own thoughts again. He slips his hand up to rest on top of Jonghyun’s thigh, next to his head.

“It’s like… I wanna do things, to you, but… I don’t really… want you to do things to me?” He grimaces as he says it. It sounds weird. He yawns into his hand, partly because he’s actually tired, partly so he’ll have more thinking time. “Like… I’d blow you,” he says. He moves the hand from Jonghyun’s thigh to his zipper, poking it and around his dick area. Jonghyun makes a cute little noise when he finds it under his pants and he grins lazily. He moves away from it, though, and just pokes around it, to help emphasize his point. “And I’d finger you, and rim you, and… maybe? I’d let you ride me?” He’s not too sure on that one. He’ll figure it out when the time comes. Jonghyun is staying silent, letting him talk this out out loud. Taemin appreciates it.

“But I don’t think,” he continues, “I don’t think I want you to return the favors.” No, that’s not right. He slips his hand up Jonghyun’s shirt and plays with his happy trail while he thinks, ignoring the way Jonghyun giggles softly. “I don’t… really want you to… blow me. Or, anything, really. I can take care of myself, for the most part. And I definitely don’t want any dicks in my butt.” If the other things are too much for him, full on penetration is just… way no. He nuzzles against Jonghyun’s leg comfortably. “Yeah,” he mumbles. “That’s it.” He doesn’t know if he did a good job explaining it or not, but… there it is. He thinks that's the most talking he's done all month. Jonghyun can take it or leave it.

“Okay.”

Taemin peeks up at Jonghyun’s jawline above him. He’s taking it. Really easily. How nice. He fights his smile back from getting too big as he pats Jonghyun’s leg gently enough that he might not notice it if he’s not paying attention. By the way he chuckles softly, Taemin assumes that he was paying attention. He supposes that he doesn’t mind. Jonghyun finds his other hand to play with his fingers.

“But, um,” he says slowly. “I wanna… just… can I give you handjobs?”

Taemin was expecting something different. He’s not sure what, but definitely not that. He cocks a brow.

“You wanna touch my dick that bad?” he asks. He doesn’t see any other reason why Jonghyun would specifically ask. Jonghyun fidgets self-consciously.

“No, I… well, yeah, I guess--but not--just… I wanna… make you... feel good too--ahh, fuck.” Jonghyun’s hand leaves his and Taemin looks up in time to see his pink cheeks before he covers his face. “Why’d you make me say it,” he whines. Taemin doesn’t think he _made_ Jonghyun say anything, but okay. He doesn’t really see the problem. What Jonghyun wants makes sense; he’s an overly affectionate person. Of course he would want to do something other than just take pleasure during sex. He reaches up lazily, tugging Jonghyun’s wrists away from his face, and then cupping it upside down.

“Hey,” he says. Jonghyun blinks down at him, cheeks still pink. Taemin rubs his thumb soothingly over his skin. “You can touch my dick."

Jonghyun curses again and puts his face back into his hands.

 

5  
It’s not until the next night that they put all of their stunning preparation into work--and when it happens, it’s nice.

It starts with Jonghyun in Taemin’s lap, holding his face and kissing him slowly but eagerly. It escalates when Taemin slips his hands down to touch the butt; Jonghyun makes a needy noise against his lips and rocks back against Taemin’s hands, forward into his crotch. He fumbles for his lube, pressing it into Taemin’s hands, asking, almost demanding. Taemin obliges easily, letting Jonghyun push his tank top up and work his own pajama bottoms down as he fumbles to flip the cap open.

Jonghyun takes two fingers in easily, so fucking easily that Taemin suspects that while he was reading up on the importance of going slow, one finger, maybe half a finger at a time, Jonghyun had already been using his lube for more than just jacking himself off. He rolls his hips down against Taemin’s hand, panting against his mouth and begging, pleading for more before Taemin can even remember to look for his prostate. Taemin tries to jerk him off at the same time, but his left hand is clumsy, not used to the angle or the motion, and Jonghyun winds up impatiently slapping his hand away to do it himself.

He sure is different when he’s on the brink of orgasm, Taemin thinks. Needy and forward, fucking himself down and pressing his face into Taemin’s neck because he can’t focus enough to kiss him and breathe at the same time. It’s not long before he comes, warm wetness splattering over Taemin’s stomach as he bites down onto his shoulder hard enough to leave a mark that’ll probably be fun to show off tomorrow. Taemin feels kind of bad, even as Jonghyun pants against his skin; he thinks Jonghyun did most of the work, there.

He can’t think on it for too long--Jonghyun wiggles his hand between them soon after, palming against the half boner he got from all of the grinding earlier, coaxing him to a full erection.

“Can--can I?” Jonghyun breathes. Taemin doesn’t waste time appreciating his thoughtfulness to ask. He just nods, tells Jonghyun that yes, yes he can, and hisses a curse when Jonghyun’s hand works it’s way into his sweats.

It ends with Taemin gripping Jonghyun’s shirt so hard that it’s probably wrinkled forever, thrusting up into his hand--unfamiliar and yet so, _so_ good--as he comes onto his stomach, his mixing with Jonghyun’s into more of a mess.

Jonghyun kisses him after, slowly, with a pleased little hum against his lips. They’re just slow kisses, but Taemin finds himself having trouble keeping up anyway, this time because he’s extra drained and tired. He starts a bit when he feels something against his stomach; Jonghyun’s soft chuckle and another kiss against his jawline soothe him into realizing that it’s just a tissue. Jonghyun is wiping his stomach clean. How polite. He hums, slouching down into a more comfortable position. He’s sleepy.

“Thanks, kid,” he mumbles, reaching up to poke Jonghyun’s cheek. He means for cleaning up his stomach, not the handjob, but if Jonghyun takes it to mean the former, he won’t really mind. He’s too tired to keep his finger against Jonghyun’s face, so he lets it slip down to hold his wrist instead. He should probably help Jonghyun clean up, too. Give him kisses, pull his pants up and pat his eager little booty, work with him to snuggle into a comfortable position.

He just falls asleep instead.


	6. Three times they kinda had a sex life (M)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taemin follows Jonghyun’s lead in the kiss easily, lifting his hands to his waist to walk him a few steps backwards. He bumps into Taemin’s motorcycle and makes a little noise into his mouth; Taemin hums back and pushes him a little insistently.
> 
> “Sit on the bike,” he mumbles.  
>  **tw for an underage handy**

1  
The next time Jonghyun sees Taemin, it’s a month after he jizzed all over his stomach, and he’s about to jizz all over his stomach again.

This time, they’re up against a wall just inside one of the rooms because Taemin took a few seconds out of his aggressive kissing to listen when Jonghyun said he didn’t want to keep grinding in the middle of the hallway.

How exciting, Jonghyun thinks. The hot, mysterious biker babe riding in after a long month away and heading straight up to fuck the living shit out of his cute motel boyfriend. He’s shirtless under his open jacket and everything. It’s almost straight out of the bad romance novels he catches Kibum reading all of the time.

Well, without the fucking. Jonghyun wasn’t exactly carrying his lube around with him all month and he doesn’t think Taemin actually wants to fuck him anyway. He seems content with just this quick and dirty handjob thing they have going on right now. He already came, jerking himself off with his free hand gripping Jonghyun’s hip so tightly Jonghyun thinks he has a bruise or two.

Now, white drips down his hand and slicks Jonghyun’s cock, makes the rough slide of his fingers against Jonghyun’s skin that much better. Jonghyun never knew that he had a thing for this kind of shit until now, but fuck, does he love it. Taemin’s mouth is on his neck, breathing hotly, sucking, biting, every bit as overwhelming as it was when he first came up here and pressed Jonghyun into the wall as a greeting. Jonghyun thinks he’s trying to leave a mark.

“Fuck,” he grunts, fingers gripping Taemin’s bicep where his jacket’s fallen off of his shoulder and hips rolling up against his hand. Taemin hums against his neck, a low, rough noise, and trails his lips up to his ear.

“You like this?” he asks, and fuck. It’s not soft or gentle, not a request for permission to keep going; it’s a demand, an order for Jonghyun to answer--and how could he lie?

“Y-yes,” he breathes. “Yeah, I--”

“Did you miss me?”

“Ye--fuck--” Jonghyun lets his head fall back against the wall with a thunk that he’s sure will be sore later. He doesn’t remember jerking off ever feeling this good when he did it himself. If he thinks about it, it’s not really that great--Taemin is kind of clumsy, still recovering from his own orgasm--but it’s everything else about him that’s overwhelming him instead. The heat of his breath, the roughness of his voice, the way he’s crowding Jonghyun up against the wall, how he’s kind of twisting his wrist every time he slides it down on his cock.

“Did you touch yourself while I was away?” Taemin’s asking, lips moving against Jonghyun’s ear. “Hmm? Did you finger yourself? Fuck yourself down against your hand and wish it was me?”

Jonghyun hopes Taemin isn’t actually expecting him to answer anymore because his vocabulary has been all but reduced to half syllables and shaky breaths. The answer is a huge, obvious yes; if he had any shame, he would be embarrassed, but he doesn’t. If there’s one thing he’s not ashamed of, it’s how fucking badly he wants Taemin to fuck him. Fuck, he would explain to Taemin in detail just how many times he’d gotten himself off thinking about him if Taemin really wanted him to.

And now that he’s thinking about it, his orgasm grows even faster inside of him, fueled by thoughts of Taemin, Taemin’s cock, Taemin’s chest, Taemin’s _everything_ \--

He comes soon after Taemin bites down on his neck and sucks almost hard enough to be painful. His come spurts over Taemin’s hand and stomach as he grunts through his teeth, grinds his hips forward, digs his nails into his arm. The pleasure of it fizzes through him and leaves him warm and relaxed, sagging back against the wall with a contented smile. After a moment, he lets go of his death grip on Taemin’s arm, rubbing his thumb over the little nail marks he can feel there soothingly. Whoops. Taemin clumsily tucks him back into his jeans and zips him up; it’s not really funny, but it’s still a gesture that makes him chuckle and smile a little bit. It’s a nice gesture.

He watches with lazy eyes as Taemin fumbles with his clean hand in his jacket pocket and pulls out a little travel pack of tissues, which he uses to wipe his hand and stomach and a little bit off of the hem of his pants. Did he carry those around before or did he get them just on the off chance that something like this would happen, Jonghyun wonders when Taemin wads all of the dirty tissues up in one clean one and shoves it back into his pocket. That makes him laugh softly again; is he just gonna carry it around with him until he reaches a garbage can? He leans forward, figuring one of them should break the silence, and presses their mouths together for a slow kiss.

“That was… unexpected,” he mumbles when he pulls away. It really was; the bikers hadn’t even been in the motel for ten minutes before this whole thing started. Taemin shakes his hair out of his face with a shrug.

“I’d had that boner all morning,” he says, like seeing Jonghyun again wasn’t the more important factor in this. He frowns a little bit. “Did you not like it?” he asks, accusation in his tone. Jonghyun is too lazy to get all blushy or feel weird about the question, so he just tells the truth.

“I did like it.” He’s looking at Taemin’s face, but his eyes keep slipping down to his neck, and his collarbones. It’s not there anymore, but he still knows exactly where he left a hickey the month before. Taemin huffs lightly. Like he’s annoyed or something. How cute.

“Well, don’t complain then,” he grumbles. Then he rubs his palm into his eye blearily and looks around the room he pulled Jonghyun into earlier. “Is this room seventeen?” he asks. Jonghyun blinks, caught off guard at having to think so suddenly.

“Um,” he says. Fuck. He doesn’t even know. He forgot where exactly he was in the hallway before Taemin came up. He squints inside the bathroom door opposite him where he can just see an ugly crack on one of the tiles. “No,” he says slowly. The cracked tile room is… “Four?” He thinks? It’s definitely not seventeen, in any case. Taemin sighs, stepping away from Jonghyun.

“Fuck,” he mutters before turning and shuffling out of the door. Jonghyun raises an eyebrow after him, amused. He did have a one in twenty shot, at least. He follows Taemin outside after a moment, catching up to him quickly and leaning up against his back. Taemin hums in question as Jonghyun feels up his side in search of his jacket pocket. He reaches inside and pulls out the rumpled wad of dirty tissues; Taemin found him while he was collecting trash from the empty rooms. He’s got his big trash can out here in the hall with him and everything. He’ll take care of it.

“Um,” he says. Fuck, he can feel his blush coming back already, now that he’s not so blissed out from his orgasm and he’s holding a wad of fucking jizz-stained tissues. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. It’s not like Taemin doesn’t have a garbage can in room seventeen. He rests his forehead on the nape of Taemin’s neck so he won’t be able to see the redness of his cheeks. “I really missed you,” he mumbles quietly. More than just the handjobs, he means. He missed the rest of Taemin, too. Taemin is still for a moment, but then he reaches up and sifts his fingers lazily through Jonghyun’s hair.

“Thanks,” he says. Jonghyun assumes that to mean that Taemin missed him too and smiles.

 

2  
Taemin wakes up one day in April with Jonghyun’s arms wrapped around his waist, his face nuzzled against his collarbones, and their legs tangled together, which is… wrong. It’s nice, but it’s wrong, because it’s never happened before, because…. He yawns and shifts closer to Jonghyun while he tries to figure out why he shouldn’t be shifting closer to Jonghyun. He’s never woken up with him because… he’s always left before Taemin could wake up. Because he needs to be up early, for… work.

He needs to be up early for work, for his job doing… whatever the fuck it is that he does at this motel in the mornings. Make breakfasts, or something; Taemin doesn’t know. What he _does_ know is that this job is important to Jonghyun and he needs to be up early to do it.

And if Taemin’s woken up before him, it definitely isn’t early.

Regretfully, he pushes Jonghyun away from him and shakes his shoulder to wake him up. If he doesn’t the poor kid will sleep in even longer and probably get in trouble, or he’ll beat himself up about it and feel bad for a month. Taemin doesn’t want that.

“Hey,” he mumbles sleepily, cracking open his eyes to check if Jonghyun is waking up yet. “Hey, get up.” He shakes Jonghyun a little bit too hard and he rolls onto his back. Fuck. Taemin rolls on top of him, rubbing his cheek against the soft material of his shirt. “Wake up,” he murmurs, reaching up to poke Jonghyun’s face. That gets him a reaction, finally: Jonghyun makes a sleepy noise, a little hum, and his hand comes weakly up to swat Taemin’s away.

“Nnnnh,” he whines. Taemin frowns. No _nnn_. He has to wake up.

“You’re gonna be late for work,” he says, as sternly as possible when the last thing he really wants is for Jonghyun and his warmth to leave. Ugh. He feels like Jinki. Instead of sitting up suddenly, freaking out, or at the least sleepily agreeing with Taemin, Jonghyun just hums in the negative again and wraps his arms around Taemin’s shoulders.

“No I’m not,” he mumbles. “It’s my birthday. I get the day off.” He wiggles further down so Taemin’s face is resting up against his neck and hums a happy little hum this time. If Taemin bothered to open his eyes, he’d probably see the smile that he can hear in Jonghyun’s voice. Oh. Well, fine then. If he says so. He yawns against Jonghyun’s skin. His birthday, huh? April… somethingth. April he’ll-ask-Jinki-what-day-it-is-later.

“Happy birthday, kid,” he says, patting Jonghyun’s arm. As Jonghyun mumbles sleepily in thanks, it occurs to Taemin that he didn’t get him anything. It’s not like he could have known to, but he still feels kind of bad about it. He shifts so he can lay fully on top of Jonghyun and rest his chin on his chest. “Want me to blow you?” he asks, cracking his eyes open so he can gauge Jonghyun’s reaction. He doesn’t see how it could not be positive; he came in Taemin’s mouth in like, three minutes the first time Taemin blew him. And he didn’t last that long the other few times, either.

Just as expected, Jonghyun’s cute smile turns into a wider grin. He moves his hand around Taemin’s shoulder and slips it under his tank to feel up the skin of his back; Taemin pretends like he doesn’t enjoy the softness of his fingertips as much as he does.

“Yeah,” Jonghyun says. Taemin grins a little. Okay then. He slips down further, appreciating how Jonghyun spreads his legs under the covers to give him room. He likes sucking Jonghyun’s dick, if he’s being honest with himself; it tastes kind of nice and Jonghyun really likes when he does. He likes that Jonghyun likes his mouth. He’s moving his hands to Jonghyun’s waist when it shifts a little bit away. He frowns, confused, and looks up at Jonghyun, who’s frowning back down at him in a more uneasy kind of way. “Actually,” he mumbles, “maybe not.”

Taemin slides to his stomach dejectedly after being so worked up. Jonghyun can’t just change his mind like that.

Well--actually, he can, but still. Taemin went to all of that work to wiggle down a few inches for nothing. He’s disappointed. He lets his head rest on Jonghyun’s thigh and closes his eyes because he’s still a little bit too tired to keep looking up at him.

“Why not?” he asks. He feels Jonghyun tugging lightly at his tank strap and obliges, albeit reluctantly. He slides back up Jonghyun’s body, then wraps his arms around his shoulders and rolls them both over so Jonghyun’s weight is comfortably on top of him. Jonghyun shifts to get more comfortable and Taemin is sure he feels a shrug in there.

“I don’t know, it’s weird,” he says. “Like, I’m twenty, and you’re seventeen, and it’s just… weird.” He shrugs again; Taemin yawns against his hair. That’s _it?_

“You’re still the exact same number of days older than me, though,” he mumbles. “And we both thought I was older than you for, like, half a year. And I’m eighteen in two months anyway.”

“I know,” Jonghyun whines. “But the numbers make it feel weird.” He sounds like he’s pouting and feeling bad about the whole thing. "It was kind of weird before too, actually." Taemin pats his arm lazily to show that he doesn’t mind. He was just questioning the logic, is all. He still doesn’t see what the big deal is, but then again, he’s not the twenty year old almost getting a blowjob from the seventeen year old.

“It’s ‘kay,” he says, just in case Jonghyun wasn’t reassured by his arm patting. At that, Jonghyun makes his little happy noise and presses a kiss to his chest. Aha. There it is.

“You can blow me in two months,” he grins against Taemin’s skin. Taemin snorts. Someone’s full of himself. He probably--absolutely--will blow Jonghyun in two months anyway, though. It’s not like it’s a lie. He turns his head to see the time on the little clock next to his lamp; it’s almost eleven. That’s kind of too late for breakfast, isn’t it? He yawns again and pushes Jonghyun off of him, figuring that they should get up anyway.

“Come on, kid,” he says. “I’ll take you down to the town.” He knows that Jonghyun will perk right up at the possibility of a bike ride. They’ve gone on a couple more since that first time around the parking lot, ever since Jonghyun got his own helmet. Taemin still doesn’t know where he got such a quality one; he probably bought it online or something. Nerd. “I’ll buy you a cake,” he adds when Jonghyun sits up next to him and rubs sleep out of his eyes. “There’s a bakery down there, right?” He knows he’s seen one there before. He catches the amused grin and raised eyebrow that Jonghyun gives him out of the corner of his eye and frowns. What.

“Those cakes are like, forty dollars each,” Jonghyun says. Taemin squints at him. What the fuck. It’s just a cake.

He pushes his hair out of his face with a shrug.

“I’ll buy you a cupcake,” he mutters, slipping out of bed and shuffling into the bathroom.

 

3  
“Do you wanna go somewhere, or are you just gonna keep feeling up my bike all day?”

Jonghyun jumps when Taemin slouches his way into the garage sometime after breakfast, looking shifty and guilty all the way from the other side. Taemin had a feeling that he’d be in here; he saw him slinking out of the back door over his hash browns earlier. Now, Jonghyun blushes pink as Taemin draws closer, trying to act like Taemin didn’t just catch him in the act. Taemin can’t stop his amused little smile when he notices Jonghyun’s hand is still on the seat.

“I don’t mind, if you want to feel up my bike,” he shrugs. “I said you could touch it that one time.”

“I wasn’t--feeling it up,” Jonghyun pouts. “I was just looking.” He looks away as he says it; Taemin cocks an eyebrow. Just looking. _Sure._ Still, it’s not like he has the energy to pick fun at Jonghyun for it. He shrugs, fingering his keys in his jacket pocket.

“Okay,” he says. “Did you wanna go somewhere anyway?” He’s free all day. If Jonghyun wants, they could go down to the town for a little bit. There’s not much to do there, but Jonghyun mostly goes for the bike rides anyway. And also to cling to Taemin, which Taemin is admittedly fond of. Jonghyun shrugs a little shrug, though, glancing to the wall that separates the garage and the lobby. Oh. He must just be on a short break.

“I kinda… wanna….” Jonghyun scoots forward and reaches for the collar of Taemin’s shirt. Taemin lets himself be tugged gently forward and a little bit down for their mouths to press together. Oh, he thinks again, as Jonghyun slips his hands around the back of his neck. It’s a makeout break. He’s cool with that. It has been a few months since they last got to make out. He follows Jonghyun’s lead in the kiss easily, lifting his hands to his waist to walk him a few steps backwards. He bumps into Taemin’s motorcycle and makes a little noise into his mouth; Taemin hums back and pushes him a little insistently.

“Sit on the bike,” he mumbles. Jonghyun makes another little noise and breaks their kiss to glance behind him. Taemin waits for him to hoist himself up on the seat, legs dangling off the side. He steps forward, nudging Jonghyun’s legs open to stand between them and resting his hands on the seat on either side of his hips.

“Oh,” Jonghyun says. “Ooh.” He smiles, wiggling to lean back against the support pillar behind him  and tugging Taemin forward by his shirt. “This is nice,” he hums before pressing their mouths together again. Taemin smiles to himself, though he knows Jonghyun can feel it too. He knew that Jonghyun would like this. He slips one hand closer to Jonghyun’s hip, rubbing his thumb over the skin under his shirt absentmindedly. Jonghyun’s breathing picks up just so and he tugs Taemin closer and scoots forward at the same time so their crotches press together, fingers slipping into his hair.

The movement makes Taemin’s keys jingle in his pocket again. Hmm. That’s an idea. He fumbles for them, taking his time as Jonghyun takes his time in coaxing his mouth open with his tongue. He’s lazily sucking on Jonghyun’s tongue when he gets his key into the ignition and turns it. Jonghyun turns curiously to watch as he grabs the clutch, so Taemin moves to kiss at his jawline instead. It’s a little awkward to reach over to the other side of the handlebars, and he probably could have just told Jonghyun to do it instead, but whatever. He’s already here.

When he hits the start button and the bike sputters to life, he feels Jonghyun’s shudder through the fingers he tightens in Taemin’s hair. Aha. Perfect. One of Jonghyun’s hands stays in his hair; the other slides down and then pushes the hem of Taemin’s undershirt up. His kisses turn less languid and more eager as well, soft sucks and sharp bites against Taemin’s lips. It’s so easy to turn him on, Taemin thinks. Just a little motorcycle vibration during a sloppy makeout. He presses Jonghyun’s legs open wider and leaves his lips to mouth over to his ear.

“Does it make you hard?” he asks, hisses it against Jonghyun’s skin. He’s not entirely sure where he picked up the whole asking-questions-during-sex thing, but it makes Jonghyun all breathy and flushed so he just rolls with it. He likes the effect a few whispered words of filth have on him. He likes how Jonghyun tries to answer even as he gets less and less coherent.

“Y-yeah,” he breathes now, the fingers on Taemin’s stomach pressing into his skin. Taemin breathes out a short laugh. Of course it does. He’s probably spent all twenty years of his life getting boners over motorcycles. He moves his hand from Jonghyun’s thigh to his crotch, palming against the hardening outline of his cock to work him up even more. The dude deserves a handjob. Jonghyun sucks in a breath, and then stills completely. “Wait, fuck.” Taemin waits; he waits and moves his hand and leans back just a little bit to see Jonghyun’s face. He’s leaning back against the pillar still, breathing quickly, swallowing thickly with his eyes shut. “I don’t,” he pants. “Don’t wanna--” he takes his hand out from under Taemin’s shirt and waves it in little circles. Ahh.

He doesn’t wanna do this. Because he has to go back to work soon, or because he doesn’t want to have his dick out in the middle of the garage where people could walk in, or because he just… doesn’t feel like it. Taemin doesn’t know. He doesn’t really care why, either. A nah is a nah. He moves to kiss back against Jonghyun’s mouth softly to calm his breathing. It doesn’t relax fully until he wiggles his hand over to hit the kill switch and the bike hums out to a stop.

He grins to himself when he pulls away and Jonghyun breathes out a little sigh of relief. Too easy.


	7. Five times their relationship was pretty okay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m gonna go get ready for lunch now,” Jonghyun says quietly. “I’ll see you… later, okay?” He hesitates a little bit because he doesn’t know if Taemin is actually going to get up for lunch. Sometimes he does, sometimes he doesn’t, and Jonghyun hears him driving off to the town with a few others later. Taemin bats his finger away sleepily and turns to lie on his back again.
> 
> “Sure,” he mumbles, throwing his arm over his eyes.

1  
Taemin likes kissing Jonghyun. Not just on the mouth; everywhere else, too. His shoulders, the nape of his neck, his wrists, his arms… anywhere where his skin falls under Taemin’s lips, really. Taemin thinks maybe he just likes kissing in general, and since Jonghyun is the only one that he kisses, he’s the one that gets to revel in it.

He’s kissing Jonghyun’s neck now; giving him soft little lazy pecks as he dozes off. Jonghyun hums tiredly and pushes himself up on his hands, moving away from Taemin’s mouth. Taemin pouts, squinting at him in the late sunlight that reaches the backyard of the motel. He reaches up and cups Jonghyun’s face, brings it down, and presses their mouths together instead.

Then he leaves Jonghyun’s lips to kiss elsewhere: his jaw, his cheekbones, his temples, his nose--all over his face. Jonghyun grunts and moves away, taking Taemin’s wrists in gentle but firm hands and pressing them into the grass.

“Stop,” he whines. “You’re getting spit feel all over my face.” He sits back against Taemin’s thighs and tugs the collar of his shirt up to wipe his face. Taemin absently watches the sliver of exposed skin under the hem of the shirt grow larger, slipping his fingers over to feel his stomach up. It looks and feels… different. More solid. More toned. He frowns, pushing Jonghyun’s shirt up higher tor a closer look at what’s unmistakably the beginnings of a set of abs. What the fuck.

“When did you get these,” he mumbles, looking accusingly up at the rest of Jonghyun to see if any other part of him has changed. He absolutely has; his face seems more mature, somehow. A squarer jawline, quieter eyes, sharper cheekbones. There’s a new edge to his bangs and style to his hair, instead of it just being the soft mop it used to be. His hands were stronger, too, when he held Taemin’s wrists down, and his shirt sleeves are also less loose, more filled in by muscles that weren’t that defined the last time Taemin was here. Or--were they? He’s only been away for a month and a bit. He’s pretty sure that people don’t just sprout muscles in that short of a time.

He’s sure that people don’t just… get hot in a month. Has he just not been noticing? It makes sense, he guesses; Jonghyun is twenty years old. He should be looking more mature and everything, but still. What the fuck.

“When did you get hot?” he asks, sliding his hands up Jonghyun’s arms and pushing his sleeves up. He doesn’t even have weird tanlines on his golden skin. Has he been outside and shirtless without Taemin knowing? That’s not fair. Jonghyun blinks, humming in question and looking down at himself.

“You think I’m hot?” he asks, looking back up after a moment with a grin that’s… unfamiliar. Cocky and arrogant, instead of little and shy like usual. Fuck, that’s weird. Not bad--it’s good that Jonghyun is getting more confident--but he’s just… not used to it. He grumps, reaching up to poke Jonghyun’s lips down.

“Stop that,” he mumbles. “Stop being hot. You’re not allowed.” At least not so suddenly. Maybe Taemin will allow it in a few days, maybe the next time he comes around, when he’s more used to the image. Jonghyun doesn’t stop; if anything, he smirks even wider, rolling his shoulders and wiggling his hips.

“Not a twink anymore, am I?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows. Taemin immediately stops being grumpy in favor of snorting grossly. Way to ruin the aesthetic. He moves his hand down Jonghyun’s side and to his ass, squeezing it slowly. It surprises Jonghyun, makes his smirk fall right off of his face in favor of a scrunched eyes and a bitten lip accompanied by the twinkiest fucking noise that Taemin has ever heard in his life. Twinkier than that time he rode Taemin’s dick on the floor of room eleven.

It’s his turn to smirk lazily up at Jonghyun when he opens his eyes again. He’s pouting, pink coloring his cheeks in a comfortingly familiar expression. There. That’s better. Taemin tugs his face down to kiss him softly on the mouth. Jonghyun hums an embarrassed little noise against his lips and Taemin grins more.

“Just because you have muscles now, it doesn’t mean you’re not a twink,” he murmurs. Jonghyun just humphs and wiggles down to pout into his neck.

 

2  
Taemin fades in and out of consciousness as the sun warms his chest. He’s lazy, relaxed, and content, but all of that is slowly fading the more he wakes up. He’s supposed to be napping; what the fuck is waking him up so slowly? He grunts in displeasure, but at the same time, he finds himself… smiling? He’s so confused.

As more of his senses come back to him, he registers soft, fluttering touches against his chest and stomach. Light tickles and swirls, fingertips pressing into his skin and poking around his nipples. Oh. Yeah, he remembers Jonghyun coming out here to lie with him some while ago, remembers being amused at how flustered he got at Taemin’s lack of a shirt. He doesn’t remember telling him he could tickle him while he slept, though. He fights back a giggle in favor of a frown, shifting to push Jonghyun’s hand away.

“Don’t,” he mumbles. “Ticklish.”

“Oh--sorry--” Jonghyun’s hand snaps away quicker than lightning to curl against his side instead. “I didn’t--I wasn’t trying to--sorry.” His voice gets smaller and more muffled against Taemin’s shoulder, and Taemin lets out a slow breath. Damn it. He reaches tiredly for Jonghyun’s wrist, taking it and pulling his hand back over his torso.

“You can still,” he mumbles, pressing Jonghyun’s hand flat against his chest. He didn’t have a problem with Jonghyun feeling him up, just with how lightly he was doing it. “Just, firmly,” he says, patting Jonghyun’s hand and slipping his own under his head again. He knows Jonghyun was being so gentle because he didn’t want to disturb Taemin, but Taemin kind of works the other way. Light touches wake him up; a full, warm hand against his skin will just relax him.

“Oh,” Jonghyun says. “Okay.” He moves his palm down against Taemin’s ribcage, where Taemin first felt the tickles that woke him up. Now, Jonghyun’s hand is lulling him back to sleep. He sighs contentedly, turns to rest his cheek against Jonghyun’s head, and lets himself slip back into his nap.

 

3  
Rain greys the skies, patters against the windows, wets the asphalt out front, muddies the grass out back, and makes Jonghyun wonder where exactly it was that Taemin grumbled off to. He saw him earlier, when the first drips of rain fell from the clouds. He saw the biker through the window of one of the rooms he was cleaning, stumbling to his feet in the grass and glaring up at the sky as he shuffled inside. It was cute, in an endearing kind of way, and he’d been looking forward to having a grumpy, slightly wet Taemin coming up here to go to his room and nap. Jonghyun was going to intercept him and get snuggles instead.

It’s been at least a half an hour since the rain started, though, and there’s been no sleepy boyfriend for Jonghyun to kiss. Maybe he’s downstairs bugging Jinki instead. Jonghyun sighs as he locks another door behind him. He still has to finish up up here, and then go down to the kitchen to help prepare for lunch. He really should stop procrastinating on talking to his sister about hiring some of the high school kids from town for part-time jobs. He wants to narrow his workload down from like, every odd job in the motel to maybe one or two. Refine his skills or whatever. Spend less time cleaning up after people and more time talking to them, because he’s been trying lately to be more confident and it’s working.

He’s kind of proud of himself, actually. It’s fun, feeling good about himself. Obviously, he still has his bad days, but at least he’s improving, right? He thinks he even flustered Taemin a little bit last month, when he noticed that he’d been working out.

Taemin--right, Jonghyun was trying to hurry up so he could go find him before his kitchen shift starts. He pushes his cleaning cart along to the next empty room and shoulders his way inside.

When he finally does find Taemin, he finds him on the couch in the lounge, sprawled over the cushions with his head under the little potted tree next to the vending machine. Jonghyun snorts, shaking his head fondly. Of course. He doesn’t know why he expected any different. He checks the clock over the break room door: seventeen minutes until he has to show up in the kitchens. That’s definitely enough time.

As he crosses the lobby to talk to the biker, though, he finds himself frowning, and by the time he’s reached him, his hands are on his hips.

“Taemin, get your boots off of the couch,” he says sternly, reaching down to tap against Taemin’s bent knee. He wasn’t outside in the rain long enough for his boots to get muddy or wet or anything, but still--manners? Taemin just gives him a sleepy hum instead of an answer, eyes cracking open to peer blearily at him.

“Mmm… get your butt in my lap,” he mumbles. Before Jonghyun has time to even ask “what,” Taemin’s grabbed his hand and tugged him down onto the couch with him. Jonghyun grunts, disoriented but still grumpy, because his shoes are on the couch now too.

His butt is in Taemin’s lap, though, and that’s something that he can’t complain about, at least. He reaches behind himself and knocks one of Taemin’s legs off of the couch, then picks the other up and rests his ankle on the opposite armrest. There. Better. He smiles, lowering himself down to rest his face against Taemin’s neck. There’s not really anyone else in the lobby to make him self-conscious. He doesn’t see why he can’t enjoy this for a few minutes.

“Hi,” he says against Taemin’s neck. He feels his throat vibrate with another hum.

“Hey,” Taemin replies. Then he wraps his arms around Jonghyun’s waist and turns them to their sides. “It’s raining,” he murmurs. Jonghyun finds a tiny laugh escaping his throat as he wiggles so his back is against Taemin’s chest.

“I noticed,” he replies. He slips one leg back to fit under Taemin’s, propping his feet up so his boots don’t fall back against the cushions. Taemin makes a little noise, pokes Jonghyun’s shin with the heel of his boot, and nuzzles against the top of his head. How nice. Jonghyun sighs happily and closes his eyes to relax with Taemin’s warmth behind him.

He almost falls asleep like this; he would have, if he wasn’t checking the clock every half minute to make sure he didin’t. It’s with a heavy sigh that he finally pulls himself away from Taemin’s lanky form, slipping off of the couch and kneeling down to poke gently at Taemins cheeks. Honestly, he wouldn’t be surprised if the biker had fallen asleep again.

“I’m gonna go get ready for lunch now,” he says quietly. “I’ll see you… later, okay?” He hesitates a little bit because he doesn’t know if Taemin is actually going to get up for lunch. Sometimes he does, sometimes he doesn't, and Jonghyun hears him driving off to the town with a few others later. Taemin bats his finger away sleepily and turns to lie on his back again.

“Sure,” he mumbles, throwing his arm over his eyes. Jonghyun snorts. Sleepy sleepy. He’ll put Taemin on the “no” list for lunch today. He stands up straight, frowning again because Taemin’s feet are right back where they were when Jonghyun first found him. He sighs. He’s absolutely going to frown at Taemin about this later, when he’s more awake. For now, he just pulls his apron half off, tugs his hoodie up and over his head, folds it clumsily and places it between Taemin’s boots and the couch.

Good enough.

 

4  
“Hey….” Jonghyun notices something odd about Taemin’s stomach as he presses his hands up his shirt. Or, something missing. “Your abs are gone,” he mumbles, pulling away from their lazy makeout in Taemin’s bed to lift up the hem of his shirt and poke at his soft tummy. He distinctly remembers that last time it was more solid, more defined. Not very much, but there was still something there and it was fun to follow the lines he could just barely feel under Taemin’s skin. “Where’d they go?” he asks, grinning down at the way his finger almost sinks into plush skin. Taemin makes his grumpy noise, the little, breathy humph that’s usually followed by a flappy hand.

“I left them on my bike,” he says. Then he follows that up by flapping Jonghyun’s hand away. Jonghyun snorts, raising a brow and looking up to his face.

“Yeah?” he asks. He jerks his head cheekily towards the door. “Wanna go out and look for them?”

“I want you to shut up about it,” Taemin mutters, taking the hem of his shirt and tugging it sharply back down over his stomach. Jonghyun’s smile falters a little bit. Oh. Whoops. He guesses Taemin isn’t good with being poked fun at. He moves his hand to Taemin’s hip instead and smiles apologetically.

“Sorry,” he grins. Taemin humphs again, but he also circles his fingers around Jonghyun’s wrist and rubs his thumb over his skin.

“It’s not like I can keep a gym schedule,” he says. Jonghyun chuckles. He’s cute when he’s grumpy.

“I know,” he tells him. “I still like your tummy.” He pokes Taemin gently through his shirt, which just gets him flapped away again. Taemin’s hiding a smile, though. He can tell. “Wanna see mine?” he asks, lifting the hem of his own shirt before Taemin can even reply. All of this ab talk has got him thinking about his own hard work. People keep telling him to stop showing off.

He’s never going to stop.

“Oh my god,” Taemin says. He tugs Jonghyun’s shirt down almost as quickly as he tugged his own. “Just--go back to making out with me.” He looks even grumpier than before, a puffy pout on his plush lips. Jonghyun giggles and leans forward to press their lips together softly.

“Okay,” he hums. He won’t be mad about more kissing. They get back into their earlier rhythm easily, with two differences: Jonghyun doesn’t slip his hands under Taemin’s shirt, and Taemin does push up the hem of Jonghyun’s.

 

5  
“Your roots are showing.”

“Hmm?”

“In your hair,” Jonghyun mumbles. Taemin hums again, relaxing from where he was half getting ready to open his eyes.

“Oh,” he says. He knew that. He hasn’t had time to touch up the soft blonde he likes so much yet. His hair dye is like, three weeks away at the mall. Excuse him for not keeping it perfectly colored all of the time. “Are you gonna buy me dye and do it for me?” he asks defensively. As defensively as he can while he’s curled up in Jonghyun’s lap out in the grass, with Jonghyun’s fingers combing soothingly through his hair, anyway. Jonghyun chuckles softly, amused at Taemin’s attitude, a noise that he’s still not used to. He’s been going back and forth lately, from confident and relaxed to quiet and anxious.

“I could,” he says contemplatively. “I’ve been wanting to dye my hair brown. We could dye our hair together.”

“Brown?” Taemin asks, opening his eyes anyway and wiggling to squint up at the cleaning boy. He tries to imagine the jet black of his hair as a different color. Maybe a soft, light brown, with the way it falls so gently into his eyes. Maybe darker, with highlights to match that damn cocky grin he’s been showing lately. Or maybe something medium, and just… subtle. Subtle, just enough off from black that it still looks natural, but catches the sunlight every now and then and becomes really obvious. Yeah. “That would be nice,” he mumbles, closing his eyes again. “I usually do my hair at Amber’s, though.”

“Maybe I’ll get Kibum to help me then,” Jonghyun says. Taemin hums against his bicep. That also sounds nice. He bets Jonghyun would be fine doing it by himself, too. Jonghyun’s fingers continue to play with his hair, twirling the strands and pulling apart little tangles. It’s soothing. He finds himself actually dozing off instead of just relaxing. He’s not sure if he’s just imagining the little kiss Jonghyun leans down to press against his temple or not, but it has him smiling anyway.


	8. Five times they weren’t so sure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “No–” Jonghyun catches Taemin’s wrist in a tight grip as he tries to leave the lobby and turns him around to face him forcefully. “What did you just say to me?”

****1  
“What are you giggling about?”

Jonghyun looks up from giggling over his ice cream to look at Taemin on the other side of the table in this little ice cream shop. Taemin, with his badass leather jacket, biker boots, ripped tank top, and studded belts, with his four hundred pound motorcycle, carelessly disheveled hair, and newfound skill of smudged, smoky eyeliner and chipped black nails, with his lazy, gives-no-fucks attitude and general seasoned biker aura, digging a pink spoon into a banana-strawberry-watermelon-strawberry swirl with rainbow sprinkles, mini oreos, and two green gummi bears.

“Nothing,” he grins, holding back another giggle at how Taemin pushes one of the bears to snuggle up closer to the other with a pinky. “Are you sure you don’t want me to pay for mine?” he asks for probably the tenth time, gesturing at his simple small cup of vanilla cake batter. He knows that it wasn’t much--probably not even half of what Taemin’s and all its toppings cost--but still. He doesn’t know how much money Taemin has saved up.

“It’s fine,” Taemin says around his spoon. “I said don’t worry about it.” Jonghyun does worry about it though, as he pokes his spoon around his ice cream. He doesn’t like people spending money on him anyway.

“Where do you even get all of your money?” he asks. “Where does anyone in the gang get their money?” he asks next. It’s something he’s always been curious about. He knows that they can’t all just be obnoxiously rich. “Is there like one big biker gang fund, or…?”

“Kind of,” Taemin mumbles. “We have like, donors and sponsors, but that’s more for club meetings and shows and shit.” He struggles to scoop up a mini oreo against the side of his bowl as Jonghyun remembers that the whole biking hobby thing is actually part of a bigger organization of motorcycle enthusiasts. He looked it up, once. Or twice. Multiple times, really. Taemin finally gets his little cookie onto his spoon and into his mouth, then starts talking again with his mouth full. “It’s only really me and Jinki and the others that travel like, all the time. In our group, anyway.” He shrugs. Jonghyun hums, stirring his own ice cream around with interest. That’s fascinating to him. Is it just that their little group has more free time, or money, or what?

“Well, how does everyone in your gang pay for it, then?” he asks. Taemin shrugs, fishing out another mini oreo.

“Everyone buys a lot of shit for everyone else,” he says. “And Jinki… his family is rich and preppy and snobby, so he’s just… squandering his inheritance… disappointing his parents… being your stereotypical bad son.” He snorts, and Jonghyun has to agree with that. It’s hard to see Jinki as being some rebellious bad boy. “Amber,” Taemin continues, with more of a scoff this time, “they won the fucking lottery. A while back. So this is what they’ve decided to spend it all on.” Jonghyun is ninety percent sure that it’s with fondness that Taemin shakes his head. He watches as Taemin licks a yellow sprinkle off of the end of his spoon, then uncurls one finger.

“Kyuhyun runs a summer water park and Rania lifeguards there too, so they only ride with us for the rest of the year,” he says, ticking off two fingers and uncurling the third. “Kibum saves up all of his vacation days through the year and takes the whole of December off… Sunny tutors high school kids during finals months… Mint is in some fancy snooty prep college on scholarship so she only rides for a week or two every few months when she's on break... Minhwan is in some band as a drummer... Changmin’s got a rich single aunt that hates her sister more than he does… Minah never comes down here because she gets homesick if she's gone for too long... and Sungmin… I think he has some kind of job in this town, I don’t know, every time we come here it’s either to pick him up or drop him off.” He wiggles his spoon as his last tally and lowers it back to his ice cream. Jonghyun nods slowly, intrigued. He figured everyone had different backgrounds, but it’s cool to know just what everyone’s story is. Swirling his spoon absentmindedly in his ice cream, he peeks up at Taemin again after a moment.

“And... you?” he asks quietly. Taemin hesitates--it’s just for a second, but Jonghyun still sees it--before shrugging.

“Jinki,” he mumbles. “He said if I got my GED, he’d pay for me, and… I save up for myself, with like… little jobs, and shit, when we stop at places.”

“And--your parents are okay with that?” Jonghyun asks, confused. That GED comment made him remember--Taemin isn’t even nineteen. He should have graduated… a few months ago, actually. That or he should be starting his senior year right around now. “They’ve been okay with you being in a biker gang for like, two and a half years? Do they know Jinki or something? Where are they in all of this? What do they--”

Taemin looks up from his ice cream with a look that makes Jonghyun’s words die in his throat. It’s not angry, but it’s hard, and sharp, his dark eyes staring Jonghyun down for a few seconds before he looks away again. Jonghyun looks away too, but out of shame. Fuck. _Fuck_. That was too personal. That was _way_ too fucking personal and _none_ of his business and--fuck. He can’t believe himself. He _knows_ how much he hates it when people ask about _his_ parents, and yet here he is, trying to play twenty fucking questions about Taemin’s.

“I’m--I’m sorry,” he says quickly, but quietly. He can feel his face turning redder than it used to when he was first getting to know Taemin. “I didn’t mean to--I’m sorry.” Usually Taemin waves off his apologies, tells him not to worry about it, that it’s fine, but he’s not doing any of that now. He’s just stirring around his ice cream, not looking at Jonghyun. Jonghyun bites his lip in the silence. He guesses that this was one time out of a hundred that it _wasn’t_ actually fine.

It’s quiet for the next few minutes. An awkward kind of quiet, where Jonghyun finishes his ice cream and feels bad and Taemin finishes his ice cream and feels… uncomfortable, probably. Jonghyun sighs and crumples up his napkin, tossing it into his bowl and shifting in his seat.

“Are you done?” Taemin asks then, looking up from his own empty bowl. Jonghyun starts and looks up, and then down again at his bowl.

“Um, yeah,” he says, tapping it lightly on the table. Taemin nods and scoots his chair out, picking up his bowl.

“Here,” he mumbles, and he plucks one of the gummi bears from his bowl and hands it to Jonghyun. Jonghyun takes it, confused; Taemin picks up the other one, taps its little green nose against Jonghyun’s, and eats it. Oh. That’s fucking adorable. Jonghyun finds himself smiling at he eats his own, and when Taemin tugs his garbage from his hand to dump it in the can behind him. “Did you still wanna go to that bookstore?” Taemin asks, fixing his jacket around his waist. Jonghyun blinks.

Are they just… gonna pretend like it didn’t happen? He’s not very well versed in that kind of problem solving. He’s not good at avoiding things like that. But… if it’s what Taemin is comfortable with….

“Sure,” he smiles, inching forward to hold Taemin’s hand. Taemin smiles too--a tiny little quirk of his lips--and lets Jonghyun press their mouths together. He tugs on Jonghyun’s hand and leads him outside to his bike. It’s only after they’ve both gotten on and settled with their helmets on that Taemin kind of turns a little bit and pauses.

“You can… ask Jinki, later, if you want,” he says quietly. He doesn’t give Jonghyun time to reply before he revs his bike on a little bit louder than usual. Jonghyun wraps his arms a little tighter around his waist. He feels like they should know more about each other’s pasts, and it’s nice that he has permission, but… he doesn’t think he’s going to ask.

 

2  
“I can’t believe you’re going with _brown.”_

Jonghyun rolls his eyes for the umpteenth time as he plays with his newly cut bangs in Kibum’s bathroom mirror. He can’t believe that his friend is still complaining about it. All week, he’d first been trying to convince Jonghyun to get some dramatic undercut and then, when Jonghyun just got his regular trim, to dye it every color under the sun.

“I wanna do something simple, for my first time,” he says. He’s nervous about how a simple brown color will turn out, let alone silver or blue or the three color blonde-to-brown ombre effect Kibum was going on about earlier. Just because the first time Kibum dyed his hair he went full-out pink it doesn’t mean Jonghyun has to do the same. “Plus I think Taemin will like it,” he adds, smiling softly. He remembers the way Taemin looked at him when he said he wanted to dye it brown. _“That would be nice,”_ he’d said. Jonghyun wants to be nice. Behind him, Kibum scoffs.

“Tell me you’re not doing this just to impress your little biker boyfriend,” he says. “Please.”

“Of course I’m not,” Jonghyun frowns. God. What is it with people and thinking his life revolves around Taemin? He didn’t know he wasn’t allowed to even think about his fucking boyfriend while he’s not around. Or value his opinion. He was gonna dye his hair brown anyway. It’s comforting to know that Taemin will also like it when he sees it, but that’s not the only reason he’s doing this.

“Well good, because you know he’s hardly ever around to see your hair anyway,” Kibum says. “And it’s not like you’re gonna be together forever or anything, either.”

“Dude.” Jonghyun turns from frowning at Kibum in the mirror to frowning at him directly as he mixes the hair dye. “What the fuck,” he says. That was the least cool thing Kibum has ever said. Kibum looks up at him with exasperation, which only offends Jonghyun even more.

“What?” he asks. “Do you really think that he’s gonna keep biking back and forth across the country when he’s like, forty? Or that you’re gonna stay at your motel your entire life? Or that you two won’t break up for any reason ever?” He scoffs like all of those are preposterous, which yeah, okay, they might be, but still.

“That’s not the point,” Jonghyun snaps, turning back to prop his chin up in his hand. No, no he doesn’t know if they’re forever destined to be together by the stars or whatever, but so the fuck what? Kibum’s favorite band probably isn’t going to stay together for another fifty years either, but Jonghyun never tells him to stop listening to them. Sure, he and Taemin might and probably will break up eventually, but Taemin is still important to him _now_. And he’s happy with _now._ He doesn’t need people talking to him like they know how to handle his own life better than him. “Just drop it, okay?” he grumbles when he sees Kibum opening his mouth to argue in the mirror. Kibum purses his lips--he hates when Jonghyun cuts him off--but after a moment, he sighs.

“Fine, I’m sorry,” he says. “Look, let me do your hair and then we’ll get food and you can give me shit about Minho, alright?” His voice is softer, Jonghyun notices. The kind of soft where he feels bad and is trying to sound like less of an asshole. Oh, good. He smiles, letting Kibum’s fingers fluff through his hair without complaint. He does like to give his friend shit about being too chicken to ask his eternal crush out on a date. Like he’s even in any position to try to give Jonghyun relationship advice.

“Deal,” he grins.

 

3  
“No--” Jonghyun catches Taemin’s wrist in a tight grip as he tries to leave the lobby and turns him around to face him forcefully. “What did you just say to me?”

Taemin breathes out a slow breath through his nose as he jerks his hand away from Jonghyun’s hold. Jonghyun knows what he said. He shouldn’t have to repeat himself.

“I’m just wondering,” he says shortly, since Jonghyun isn’t going to let him leave until he says something, “why I’m suddenly so important _now_ when you’ve been ignoring me all day.” Why now, right when he’s about to head up to bed, is he important enough for Jonghyun to press all up against?

“You--I haven’t been ignoring you,” Jonghyun says incredulously. Taemin scoffs. Bullshit. He can’t believe Jonghyun is even trying to deny it. Like it’s not fucking obvious.

“All day I’ve been trying to talk to you but you’ve been brushing me off, you don’t--”

“I’ve been _busy_ , Taemin,” Jonghyun says, cutting him off angrily. “You know, _working?_ ” He says it like Taemin wouldn’t understand the concept, which just makes him scowl more. “Because, yeah, funnily enough, there are things in my life that are more important than you, like, oh, I don’t know, my _job?”_ He gestures wildly around the lobby. “You’ve seen how many people are here, you know how much shit I have to do--not to mention how it literally doubled when all of you came in--I can’t just _stop working_ for you.” He crosses his arms up tight as Taemin squints at him. That’s not what he fucking meant and Jonghyun knows it.

“You could have at least said hi,” he snaps. He deserves that much, at least--but still, Jonghyun’s looking at him like he’s asking for the world.

“I _did_ say hi, Taemin, I fucking--I stopped and I held your hand and I said hi, was--” He stops when Taemin scoffs and rolls his eyes. Barely. He _barely_ said hi. He stopped for a fraction of a second when Taemin reached out for his wrist by the front desk, mumbled a half-assed greeting and pulled himself away before Taemin could even say anything himself. Jonghyun tugs on his jacket rudely to get his attention again. “I’m _sorry,_ ” he snarls, “Was that not _enough_ for you? Should I have gotten to my knees and sucked your dick in the middle of the fucking lobby?”

Jonghyun’s voice rose considerably there, both in volume and octave; Taemin winces and glances around the rest of the room. People are staring now, staring at the two of them arguing in the middle of the motel. Listening to them. Nosing into their business. Getting the wrong idea about what they’re talking about and formulating rumors--

“You know that’s not what I--” he starts, keeping his voice low. He doesn’t know why Jonghyun is making such a big deal out of this. “I just wanted--”

‘What, Taemin? What did you want?” It’s like the quieter he gets, the louder Jonghyun gets in comparison; the more Taemin shrinks into himself the more Jonghyun seems to swell. “What could you have _possibly_ wanted--that you couldn’t wait for--that was _so fucking important_ that I just dropped everything I was doing and stopped for you?”

Taemin wishes that he would one, quiet the fuck down, and two, shut the fuck up long enough for him to get a word in. He never even imagined that someone as quiet and reserved as Jonghyun would get so fucking loud. It’s making him uncomfortable, both because he’s not used to it and because it’s drawing even more attention to the pair of them. This is such fucking bullshit. All he wanted was a simple hello, maybe a kiss, maybe a fucking hug. That’s not really so much to ask, especially considering--

“Well, usually you’re clingy as fuck, okay? Excuse me for assuming you--”

_“Clingy?_ ” Jonghyun asks, practically shrieks, and Taemin winces. Oh, fuck. Jonghyun’s practically red in the face, he’s so pissed, his hands curled into tight fists at his sides. “I’ve never seen you complaining about it before, but _fine,”_ he spits, “Since I’m so god damn _clingy_ I guess I’ll just leave you the fuck alone then!” He turns on his heel and storms away--and then stops before he’s gone more than three steps. He turns back, anger etched into every line of his face. “And you know what?” he asks. “I think it’s really fucking _rich_ of you to _expect_ and _demand_ so much affection from me when _you’re_ so wrapped up in your little bad boy wannabe rebel attitude that half the time you barely even make the effort to turn your fucking face when I kiss you.”

He turns again and storms off for real this time, behind the front desk and through the break room door that he slams shut with a bang that echoes throughout the otherwise silent room. Taemin glares after him, but soon loses his focus when he notices Jonghyun’s sister staring at him from behind the desk. He looks around; every single person in the lobby is looking at him. Jinki, Sunny, Minhwan--the whole fucking group--plus some random ass people that he’s never seen before in his life. Everyone who has no business getting in his business, basically. He gives them his ugliest scowl and shoves his hands in his pockets, striding off to the stairs that he meant to go up before Jonghyun called him back.

He doesn’t even get to the first one before a firm hand grips his wrist.

“Taemin, what was--”

“Fuck off,” Taemin snaps, yanking his arm away from Jinki’s quiet voice and stomping up the stairs. He’s going to get shit for that later, he knows, but right now he doesn’t care. He just wants to go the fuck to sleep and forget about all of this.

 

4  
Taemin is hovering awkwardly by the front door where he usually waits for Jonghyun to come say goodbye to him.

Jonghyun is sitting grumpily in the breakroom, having a fierce internal struggle over whether or not to go say goodbye to him. Of course the first time they ever have a fight this big is one of the only times the gang leaves the morning after they show up. Another day and they probably would have _had_ to bump into each other at some point, but no. Jonghyun can just let Taemin walk out right now and drive away for two months.

That’s what he should do. He should let Taemin keep feeling weird and awkward and guilty for being an entitled piece of shit. Jonghyun knows that he feels bad because he saw Jinki frowning at him earlier and because he gave him this look over breakfast while Jonghyun was pointedly ignoring him to take Jinki’s order. And that’s good. He _should_ feel bad, and it’s not like Jonghyun has anything to apologize for.

Okay, well, no, he may have gone a little… overboard, last night, with the whole dick sucking thing, but that was it. The rest he was pretty spot on about. A little loud, but absolutely right. He still doesn’t know where the fuck Taemin found the audacity to act like Jonghyun should’ve just dropped everything he was doing to fall all over him yesterday. If Jonghyun had had even a half a minute to spare, he would have given him a warmer welcome, but he was already late as it was. His greeting was already more than he had time for. Fuck Taemin for acting like Jonghyun didn’t care about him just because he wasn’t readily available to weep over his arrival.

This is probably going to be Jonghyun’s only break of the day and he could be using it to go kiss and snuggle on his boyfriend, but instead he has to stay in here because he’s too _clingy_ , apparently. Ugh. Taemin can stay out there and wallow in his guilt and maybe if he’s feeling nice in a month or two, Jonghyun will let him apologize, and…. And he sounds like a child. A petulant, whiny, child. Holy shit.

He looks at himself, all crossed up like a pretzel on his own in the breakroom in the dark, grumbling about holding a grudge for two fucking months. Like he’s even capable of holding a grudge for two _days_. Like Taemin would be gone for more than two hours before Jonghyun started feeling guilty. He sighs deeply, sliding out of his chair and fixing his shirt. He’s still grumpy, still offended, still bitter, but he’s not a fucking child. He’s a grown, responsible, mature adult. He’ll go say goodbye.

When he edges through the break room door, he first sees Jinki walking away from the front desk, and then Taemin pouting over by the front door. Well. Just in time. He stuffs his hands into his pockets and shuffles forward, looking more at the ground than at Taemin until he gets a few steps away. That’s when Taemin comes to him, reaching for his hands almost as quickly as he curls them away. Jonghyun sighs again, pursing his lips and frowning up at the biker, who winces a little bit. When Taemin opens up his mouth to speak, Jonghyun decides that he doesn’t want to hear it.

Maybe he is still a little childish.

“I’m still mad at you,” he says, cutting off whatever it was that Taemin isn’t going to say. “But I don’t….” he trails off, trying to think of the best way to put this. “I don’t want you to leave, for two months, thinking that I hate you,” he mumbles. “Because I don’t.” He’s just annoyed and frustrated and fully expecting Taemin to pick up his act. There is a difference between acting like an aloof bad boy and actually being hurtful, and Taemin’s been forgetting that lately.

“And….” he starts again. “And I’m sorry, for… being loud, and making everyone look at you, and for… overexaggerating.” He’ll try to be better if they ever get into a fight again, too. Looking back, he did go too far. He knows Taemin spends so much time outside because he hates having people watching him, and he’s pretty sure that last night, literally every eye in the lobby was on the pair of them. He would have hated it himself, too, if he wasn't so distracted by being pissed.

He opens his mouth again, to say something else, and then realizes that there isn’t really anything else to say. Not now, at least. He closes it, looks at the ground, looks back up into Taemin’s eyes defiantly. If this were any other situation, he’d be proud of himself for how forward he’s being, how he’s standing his ground, the defiant set to his jaw. He thinks he’s actually kind of intimidating right now. It’s nice. Taemin shuffles a little uncertainly; Jonghyun is sure he was more cowed by whatever talk Jinki gave him earlier than by him right now, but that’s fine with him.

“Okay, um,” he says. His eyes aren't half lidded and sleepy; they're big, open, and he's standing up straight instead of slouching like a lump. This must be important. “I’m--I wanted to--like--I don’t--” He makes a little groaning noise, like he wouldn’t know how to say it even if he knew what he wanted to say. “Just,” he mumbles, and then he leans down and presses a soft kiss to Jonghyun's lips.

It’s not one of his regular kisses, half assed and lazy; this one is soft, deep, and… meaningful. It has to be, with the way Taemin’s hands come up to gently cup his face and angle him into it. His thumb rubs over Jonghyun’s cheekbone and his other hand slips down around to the back of his neck, where his fingers curl into Jonghyun’s hair. Jonghyun finds himself relaxing easily into it even against his grumpy attitude because it’s just that nice.

Taemin gives him slow little pecks as he pulls away from the kiss, too; each little press of his lips smaller than the last like he’s easing them out of it. When he finally pulls back all the way, Jonghyun is a little breathless. _Well_ then. That was definitely an affectionate kiss. More than at least seventy percent of all of his other kisses lately. As his eyes flutter open, Jonghyun gets the feeling that yes, it was because he yelled at Temin for giving him shitty kisses last night and he wants to make up for that, but it’s also something more than that. Taemin’s looking at him with his dark eyes like he wants Jonghyun to understand everything that that kiss meant. Apologies, promises, declarations of emotion… it’s all in there, Jonghyun thinks.

And that’s good enough for now, he guesses. He’s still angry, but he understands, and he leans up to give Taemin one more kiss before he shoos him outside.

 

5  
Jinki sips his hot chocolate pleasantly as he meanders down the weathered planks of the wharf. It warms him up from the inside almost as much as looking inside all of the little shops and bakeries does, and he’s glad that everyone wanted to stop here for a few days. It’s the middle of winter, yeah, but he’s kind of always liked the beach better when it’s cold. He’s almost to that little candyshop with the fudge that he likes. He can waste like, four hours in there today, tops, before it’ll be time to make his way back to the cozy little seaside motel they favorite. And that’s exactly what he plans to do. Sit in there and eat some fudge and drink his hot chocolate and watch the waves and maybe chat up the cute cashier girl because she’s totally into him. He can tell.

As he approaches the side of the fudge shop and rounds the corner to pull open the door, his eyes land on someone sitting alone outside. They’re perched on the top of an empty picnic table instead of one of the benches, staring out at the ocean. It’s almost cinematic, really, with the way the wind tousles their hair and the dark clouds outline their lonely appearance. Even still, they’re also only wearing a loose sleeveless shirt, which makes Jinki frown. It’s cold and windy and wet out here. He wouldn’t mind as much--it wouldn’t even be any of his business--if the person wasn’t blonde.

They turn their head just a fraction to watch a wave crash upon the sandy shore and Jinki sighs when he confirms their face. It’s Taemin. Of course it’s Taemin. Loner nerd. He sighs and lets go of the candy shop door, shuffling instead to the picnic table to frown at the kid.

“Hey,” he calls, nudging Taemin’s arm lightly. His skin is as cold as ice and Jinki sighs again. “It’s too cold to be out here without a jacket on,” he says sternly. He swears Taemin has more common sense than he acts like. Jinki doesn’t mind if he wants to pretend like he doesn’t give a shit about anyone else, but he needs to start taking better care of himself. “You’re gonna get sick,” he adds, nudging Taemin again. Instead of acknowledging him, Taemin continues staring out at the waves for a long few moments. Jinki gives him time because he knows that Taemin was listening to him and doesn’t like to be pushed. Eventually, his shoulders rise and fall in a deep sigh.

“Do you think he loves me?”

Taemin turns to look at Jinki when the silence drags on between them. He looks tired and mussed like usual, but there's some kind of seriousness that isn’t usually there in his hooded eyes. Jinki looks at him for another moment, and then sighs again, not quite sure if it’s out of fondness or exasperation. Cliché, wannabe badass biker, getting himself sick by staring out at the ocean while the sea breeze tousles his very soul as he wonders out loud if his boyfriend on the other side of the country is in love with him. Incredible.

“How could he not be?” Jinki asks, taking another sip of his hot chocolate. He can’t believe Taemin really has to ask, what with the way Jonghyun is so hopelessly over the moon for him practically everyone that’s ever seen the two of them together can tell. Everyone except Taemin, apparently, because he looks down and then back up, a tiny, tiny little giddy smile on his lips.

“You really think so?” he asks. Jinki rolls his eyes. God. Of course.

“Come on,” he says, tugging on Taemin’s arm. “Come inside and get warm.” He knows that Taemin knows that he wouldn’t lie or give him a bullshit answer. Jinki’s never been one for repeating himself. Taemin obeys him this time, sliding off of the bench and leaning heavily on Jinki’s shoulder as they walk into the candy shop together. Jinki shrugs off his jacket once they’re inside, draping it over Taemin’s shoulders and telling him to buy himself a coffee to warm up. Taemin wraps it more around himself and shuffles up to the barista, still with his pleased little smile.


	9. Six times they were absolutely sure (M)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taemin rolls over and reaches for Jonghyun, fitting an arm around his waist as he sits on the edge of the bed and rubs his face. Jonghyun makes a startled little noise when Taemin tugs him closer and nuzzles into his side.
> 
> “I didn’t mean to wake you up, I’m sorry,” he mumbles.

****1  
Taemin realizes, as he finishes the last of his fries, that he should’ve asked Jinki to get him a large instead of a medium. Or more chicken strips. Double strawberries. _Something_ more, because he’s still hungry in this quaint little diner up on the forest path. He’s forgotten how nice the food was here. He bundles up  his napkin absentmindedly and looks at Jinki seated next to him. He’s still engaged in his polite conversation with some of the other travelers in here like usual. Well. Taemin won’t bug him for long. He scoots closer and nudges his side.

“Jinki,” he says, eyeing his still partly full plate. “Jinki, can I have a fry please?”

“Hmm? Yeah, sure. You can have the rest,” Jinki says, pushing his little container of fries forward. He turns back to his conversation easily as Taemin makes a little noise of success and snatches it up. Score. He looks around absently as he munches on Jinki’s fries. Amber is helping Sunny chat up the cute cashier, Mint and Minah are lounging around outside, some little kid is walking away from the little prize machines up front with a Kiara Lion temporary tattoo… hey. Taemin wants obscure Disney tattoos. Is there a specific temporary tattoo machine over there for them?

He digs in his jacket pocket for his wallet, and then digs through his wallet for spare change. He has a dollar twenty-five in quarters and a ten dollar bill. Well, shit. They have to be fifty cents each, at least. He scoots closer to Jinki again and nudges his side.

“Hey, hey Jinki,” he mumbles. “Can I have some quarters?” He keeps poking Jinki’s side until he turns from his conversation to face him, and then he adds, “please?”

“Why?” Jinki asks, not looking particularly bothered. Taemin jerks his head over to the prize machines.

“Temporary tattoos,” he mumbles.

“No,” Jinki says, leaning against the headrest of their booth, “I meant, why do you need _my_ quarters?” He pokes at the coins in Taemin’s wallet pointedly. Taemin sighs. Those aren't _enough_ quarters.

“I wanna make sure I get a good one,” he says. “And I don’t wanna break a ten.” If Jinki gives him seventy-five cents he should be able to get, like, four. There has to be a good one out of four. Jinki surveys him for a moment--Taemin thinks he’s amused--before shrugging and digging in his pocket.

“Sure,” he says. “Here’s… a dollar.” He drops four quarters into Taemin’s hand; Taemin takes them with a little mumble of thanks and gets up to shuffle over to the front of the diner. The temporary tattoo machine is exactly what he thought it was: obscure, less popular disney characters. They’re seventy-five cents each, though, so he can only get three. Ugh. Good enough, he guesses. He cranks out all three without looking at them, then collects them all and shuffles back to his seat to see what he has to work with.

The first one is the little white kitten from The Aristocats; he doesn’t even look at the others before he rips the clear plastic off and licks the inside of his wrist. He doesn’t even need to see them. Marie with her little bows is his favorite animated cat, like, ever. The second tattoo, he finds out as he’s pressing the first against his skin, is Nani from Lilo and Stitch. That one he taps against Jinki’s arm with because he’s noticed that the family Jinki was talking to had left while he was at the machines. Jinki turns to him, curious; Taemin offers him the tattoo and he takes it, raising an amused eyebrow.

“Thanks,” he grins. Taemin watches as he takes a new napkin, dips it into his water glass, and wets the skin of his bicep. Then he looks at where he just slobbered over his own arm. Hmm. Oh well. He presses against his tattoo with his free hand and picks up the last one. When he sees who it is, he immediately thinks of Jonghyun.

It’s Lady, the cute, fluffy dog from Lady and the Tramp. He doesn’t remember much about the movie--he saw it once like, ten years ago--but he does recall her being sweet, gentle, and a little anxious. He remembers her being brave and stubborn and defiant, too, and fuck, she’s practically Jonghyun.

He guesses, technically, that would make him the Tramp, but he doesn’t care much for technicalities. He’s not scruffy and excitable and a bad influence. He’s a cute little kitty. Totally. Grabbing a new napkin and carefully wrapping up the tattoo so it doesn’t get damaged, he slots it neatly into his wallet. They just left his place two weeks ago, and they probably won’t be back for at least another month, but he doesn’t care. He’s gonna save this thing for as long as it takes just so he can show it to Jonghyun as soon as he sees him.

It actually takes him two days to remember the tattoo, when they finally get back to the motel, but it’s the thought that counts. And the way Jonghyun reacts when he sees it--wide eyes, a giant smile, a bigger kiss, and an immediate lick of his inner wrist to slap it on--has to count for a lot.

 

2  
Jonghyun walks into Taemin’s room at the exact moment that the biker orgasms into his hand.

Oh. Maybe that’s why he didn’t answer when he knocked gently and called out his name.

He doesn’t announce his presence just yet; he leans against the wall and takes in the nice view. Taemin’s head is tipped way back against the pillows, lips parted, hair splayed around his head and shadowing his eyes. He’s also shirtless, with lovely, tanned, nearly golden skin from how the dusk light shines through the curtains onto him. Jonghyun finds himself staring at his throat and the way his adam’s apple bobs with a swallow, and then lets his gaze travel slowly down the rest of his body. Passed his sweaty collarbones, passed his chest, moving with heavy breaths, passed the splotches of white on his soft stomach, and down to where his hand is still loosely fisted around his dick. His thumb rubs slowly over the head even as he calms down, making him twitch and gasp softly. Hmm. Jonghyun will have to try that next time.

He tries to suppress the boner that’s growing in his pants as he pushes himself off of the wall and starts forward. Taemin won’t want to do anything with him right after giving himself a handy like that, but Jonghyun doesn’t see why he can’t go say hi anyway.

“You could’ve waited for me,” he grins as he steps forward. Taemin doesn’t even jump. He’s too lazy to, especially right now. He just hums, bringing his clean hand up to brush his hair out of his face.

“You could have told me you were here,” he murmurs. Jonghyun scoffs. He gets himself onto Taemin’s bed between his legs, shuffling forward on his knees and bending to nose against his thigh.

“Listen, dingus,” he says, “I _live_ here. You know I was here.” He’s not really mad, though. It’s not like Taemin could have known that he’d have gotten off of work a little early today. He moves closer to kiss at the wrist Taemin still has around his dick; Taemin moves it away, but lets his clean hand fall into Jonghyun’s hair and tugs him a tiny bit closer. Jonghyun takes the acceptance and lightly wraps his lips around Taemin’s softening cock, sucking him clean and savoring the taste, the opportunity to do so.

He moves off of Taemin’s cock soon after, mouthing up his stomach and cleaning up the mess with little licks and kisses. When he reaches Taemin’s chest, Taemin’s other hand, wiped clean but still a little sticky, comes to join the other in carding through his hair. Jonghyun leans into the touches, smiling softly; Taemin chuckles even softer.

“If I hadn’t just came that would’ve been kinda hot,” he mumbles. Jonghyun smiles, proud. He likes when Taemin acknowledges what a choice babe he is despite the whole lack-of-sexual-attraction thing. It means a lot to his ego. He slips up Taemin’s body even more to kiss against his neck, his jaw, the corner of his lips.

“Thanks,” he says. Taemin just hums and and lazily cups his face to kiss him fully on the mouth.

 

3  
It’s late. It’s so fucking late and dark and quiet that Taemin is sure that they’ve woken up half of the country with how fucking loud their bikes are. He knew they should’ve stayed at that other motel two cities over, even if that would mean another day until he got to see Jonghyun. It’s pretty much the same now anyway; it’s way too late for Jonghyun to still be up. Everyone else had voted to go, though, and if he’s being honest, if they hadn’t hit that road block they probably would have made it on time.

They roll into the parking lot as quietly as possible, which is about as quiet as a steam engine on rusty old tracks, and take regular parking spots for once rather than keep anyone up any longer to get garage passes. He stumbles when he gets off of his bike--it’s late and he’s fucking tired as well as paranoid about being heard--and latches himself to Jinki’s side for warmth. There’s the little lamp on above the desk, but no one sitting in the chair; Taemin winces when Jinki reaches over and rings the little bell. He might as well have drove his bike right through the front door.

After a moment of Jinki pushing his hair out of his face for him and Changmin leaning sleepily on the counter, the door to the break room opens and someone Taemin’s never seen before comes out. Must be the night shift receptionist. God. It’s like two in the morning. They seem wide awake, but that’s probably just a night shift person thing. He’s sure that Jonghyun is either fast asleep or struggling to fall back asleep after all of the noise they made, and he doesn’t know if he’s disappointed or glad because of it. A little of both, probably.

He yawns against Jinki’s shoulder until Jinki steps back with the usual bundle of door keys to hand out. Taemin takes the one for room number fifteen because he thinks that that’s the one with the tree right in front of the window that blocks the sun in the mornings. As he trudges up the stairs, into his room, and barely manages to wiggle out of his clothes before he flops into the bed, he figures that he’ll just find Jonghyun first thing in the morning after he wakes up.

The first thing he notices in the morning after he wakes up is that Jonghyun is already in bed with him.

Well, leaving the bed, actually, which is probably why Taemin woke up in the first place. He blearily opens his eyes more to peer at the little clock next to his bed. Four and a half hours. That’s how long he slept. He groans quietly, not happy at being woken up so early and confused as to how Jonghyun even got in here. And also happy because Jonghyun is here, warm and smelling of his nice shampoo, but sad because he’s leaving.

It’s too early for all of these conflicting emotions. He rolls over and reaches for Jonghyun, fitting an arm around his waist as he sits on the edge of the bed and rubs his face. He makes a startled little noise when Taemin tugs him closer and nuzzles into his side.

“I didn’t mean to wake you up, I’m sorry,” he mumbles. His hand covers Taemin’ and gives it a little squeeze, tries to move it away; Taemin stubbornly clings tighter.

“How did you even get in here?” he asks, nosing Jonghyun’s shirt out of the way so he can press a little kiss to his skin. Before Jonghyun even replies, he realizes the answer. They _did_ wake him up last night with how loud there were. He whines softly, wrapping his arms tighter around Jonghyun’s waist. “We were too loud last night, weren’t we?” he pouts. “I _told_ them. I told them we’d wake everyone--”

“Shhh,” Jonghyun says, petting his fingers through Taemin’s hair. “I was already up. I get insomnia sometimes. I heard you getting here so I got your room number off of the computer. I wanted to be with you,” he adds softly, and tugs one of Taemin’s hands up to kiss his wrist. Taemin hums, not entirely convinced. He believes Jonghyun about the insomnia thing, but he still feels like they really did just wake everyone up last night. He’ll bug him about it later, though--for now, he just wants to go back to sleep.

“Stay with me,” he mumbles, curling around Jonghyun possessively. He feels Jonghyun sigh, feels him trying to ease himself away.

“I have to get ready for work,” he says gently. “I usually leave around now.” He shifts another inch away and Taemin frowns. He usually isn’t awake around now. He wraps himself even more around Jonghyun and tugs him back again.

“Five more minutes,” he murmurs. Jonghyun can spare that. He’s sure of it. He works too much anyway. Jonghyun laughs softly and moves Taemin’s hands from his waist.

“Okay,” he says, shifting back to his side and under the covers. He rolls Taemin to his back and rests his head on his shoulder, his arm over Taemin’s chest. “But no stopping me when I get up again,” he adds warningly. Taemin just leans his cheek against Jonghyun’s head and presses a kiss to his hair. He’s fine with that.

“I’ll probably be asleep by then anyway,” he shrugs. Jonghyun chuckles softly again and Taemin sighs contentedly. This is what he wanted last night--to fall asleep with Jonghyun under his arm. He’s a simple man. As long as he gets that now, he’ll be happy.

 

4  
It takes Jonghyun until the third day that Taemin and his gang are at the motel to remember.

He probably would have still forgotten if he hadn’t been coming out of the breakroom just as Taemin came back from the town with a few of the others. He takes one look at his boyfriend, holding the front door open with one hand and pushing his hair out of his face with the other, gasps embarrassingly loudly, and half jogs around the corner and behind the stairs to get to his room. He doesn’t even remember where he put it--but luckily, he finds it quickly, hanging off a jacket hook on the wall. Good.

Grabbing the headband--just simple and black, to match Taemin’s style--he stuffs it into his back pocket and scuttles back down the hallway and into the lobby. He looks around quickly until he finds Taemin leaning against the vending machine and pressing a few buttons. Aha. Perfect. It’s only as he gets nearer to Taemin that Jonghyun finds himself slowing down, the excitement from finally remembering wearing off. He reaches Taemin as he’s bending down to collect his snack; when Taemin straightens up and turns around, he blinks a little bit in surprise before smiling softly.

“Hey,” he says. Jonghyun gives him a little smile, reaching behind him to play with the headband.

“Hey, um, I got you something,” he says. “Um, like, as a birthday present.” He smiles a little weakly; Taemin blinks at him again with confusion this time.

“My birthday was… six months ago,” he says slowly. Jonghyun winces. Yeah, okay, so what. Half a year and three days late and it’s not even wrapped, but so the fuck what. At least he got something. He can feel his face heating up as quiet amusement slowly dawns on Taemin’s face. He huffs. It’s not his fault that Taemin wasn’t here for his birthday when it was fresh in Jonghyun’s mind. He tugs the headband out of his pocket and holds it out unceremoniously before he can blush even harder.

“Just--happy late birthday,” he mumbles. “I got you, um, this, because um, I noticed that your hair was always in, um, in your face, and--” He blushes more anyway when Taemin takes the headband from his hand with soft, soft fingers and inspects in curiously. Ugh. He was doing so well with the whole not-getting-flustered thing lately. What the fuck happened? He tries to ignore how cute Taemin’s fingers are against the fabric and clears his throat. “And, um,” he continues. “Because, um, I think it’ll look really cute, on you, and um--”

“Thanks.” Taemin cuts off Jonghyun stammering with one gentle word, one easy smile. Jonghyun swallows, thankful but still embarrassed, and watches as Taemin fits the headband over his head. He pulls it up to his forehead, fixes it up, and lets his bangs fall messily over it. Jonghyun thinks that that kind of defeats the purpose of the accessory, but he’s a little busy being touched that Taemin just put it on right there, no hesitation, no question, to care. “C’mere,” Taemin mumbles. He reaches for Jonghyun’s waist, turns him around, tugs him a few steps backwards, and then pulls him down onto the couch.

“Oh,” Jonghyun breathes, suddenly sitting between Taemin’s legs with Taemin’s chin on his shoulder. “Um, okay.” He becomes very aware of everyone else in the room as Taemin’s arms circle around his waist as well: his sister at the front desk, Kibum and Ryeowook having a coffee after lunch, Jinki and Changmin and Kyuhyun and Rania hanging around by the front door, other random visitors of the day going up or down the stairs. They can all see the pair of them snuggling on the couch. He knows that they’re not looking, but they could still see the way Taemin’s lips press against his neck and his fingers curl possessively into his sides, if they were to glance over.

It makes him shift self-consciously in Taemin’s lap, but it also makes him bite his lip and grin. He kinda likes this. The idea that anyone can just… see them like this. Together. Affectionate. Anyone can see the pair of them and know that they’re a couple and Jonghyun really… _really_ likes that thought.

 

5  
Two weeks, Jinki had said.

 _Two weeks_ in one place. Holy shit. Fuck this storm that’s supposed to be rolling over this area soon. It better be worthy of a second ark, to be keeping him in the same spot for half a month straight. He hasn’t stayed anywhere for fourteen days since he was fifteen. At least Jinki caved to his begging and let them take the extra long ride to Jonghyun’s motel. They only got rained on a little as night drew on. No big deal. And now he at least doesn’t have to spend two weeks bored and lonely.

Still, though. _Two_ weeks. Jonghyun has basically the same reaction, when Taemin finds him and tells him, albeit way more positive.

“Two weeks?” he asks, practically squeaks, holding Taemin’’s hand in his and giving it a little squeeze. “That’s--wow, two weeks, oh my god.” He’s practically beaming that he gets to spend so much uninterrupted time with Taemin. Taemin tries to get just as excited--he wants to spend all of this time with Jonghyun, he really, really does--but he’s just not used to the idea yet. LIke, what do people even _do_ when they’re not constantly on the move? What if he falls into a _schedule?_ Ugh. Jonghyun must notice his less than ecstatic attitude, because his smile lessens a little bit into more of a sympathetic look.

“You haven’t stayed in one place for so long in a while, have you?” he asks cheekily. Taemin puffs his cheeks in a pout; Jonghyun nuzzles up closer to press a kiss to his mouth. “For someone that’s always taking naps, you sure are restless,” he hums. Taemin shrugs. He likes being able to nap away his time in different areas.

“I won’t even be able to nap outside,” he whines. It’ll be all gross and wet and cold and muddy. “I’ll have to sit on the couch, or just… stay in my room.” _Ugh_. Spending all of his time in his bedroom is something that he never wanted to go back to.

“Oh--oh, ew.” Taemin blinks out of his disgruntled pouting to look at Jonghyun, who’s scrunching up his face in distaste. He hums in question before Jonghyun takes his wrist and tugs him through the lobby to the front desk. “I’m not--I’m not sleeping with you, every night for two weeks, in one of the guest rooms,” he says. “It throws my schedule off enough after just one night.” He pushes Taemin gently to stay where he is and slips behind the counter and to the computer.

“Um,” he says. “What are you doing?”

“I’m checking you out,” Jonghyun mumbles. “You haven’t put any of your stuff up in your room yet, right?” he asks, glancing up. Taemin shakes his head, baffled. Can Jonghyun even do this? Is he allowed to? “Give me your room key,” Jonghyun says, holding out his hand without taking his eyes off of the screen. Taemin obeys meekly. He’s not used to Jonghyun being so brisk. Must be a good day for him.

“Um, where am I going to sleep, then?” he asks as Jonghyun takes his key. That question finally seems to make Jonghyun slow down; he types a little slower, clicks a few things, and looks up, suddenly looking self-conscious.

“My… my floor,” he says quietly. Taemin doesn’t at all miss the pink that blushes his cheeks as he says it. Oh, he thinks.

“Oh,” he says. “You….” he doesn’t know what he’s trying to ask. He knows that Jonghyun and his sister live here at the motel too, but he never really thought about it until now. They can’t just sleep in their own guest rooms. “Your… floor?” he asks, tilting his head in confusion. “You have a whole floor to yourself?”

“Um, yeah,” Jonghyun says. He taps a few more buttons and puts Taemin’s key away before slipping out from behind the desk and taking Taemin’s hand. “Here, I’ll show you,” he says. He tugs Taemin around the corner, behind the stairs, jams a key into the door right by the back door that Taemin had always figured was just a broom closet or something. Inside, Jonghyun tugs him passed a short hallway and into… his floor, Taemin guesses. It opens into a wide space, almost as long as the lobby next door with another door at the end.

Against the near wall there’s a large bookshelf with a tv in the middle, with a couch facing it against the opposite wall. Tucked into the corner next to the tv is a treadmill and on a desk to their right are some weights, which Taemin supposes are normal enough as well, with how in shape Jonghyun has been lately. Aside from that, though, he finds himself… surprised, at what else is in here. There’s a bass guitar leaning up against an amp next to the couch with sheet music and notebooks piled on top, and a few posters of bands and singers on the walls that Taemin’s barely even heard of. Books on the desk range from fantasy fiction to the fifth edition of a grammar handbook that Taemin vaguely recognizes as one that he learned from a few years back.

There’s a few complicated looking models of built motorcycles sitting on the desk as well, which Taemin finds himself smiling at, but there’s also like, ten scented candles in the window and a framed picture of Jonghyun with a little dachshund dog on the wall. He didn’t even know that Jonghyun has a dog. _Had_ a dog? He doesn’t see any dog stuff around, though it might just be in another room. Jonghyun tugs him further into the room after a few moments of Taemin just standing there and looking around.

“Um, my bedroom and bathroom are through there,” he says, pointing at the door down the hallway. “Sis is upstairs with the kitchen and laundry.” He points at the ceiling. “It used to be the both of us down here and mom and dad up there, but when--um--” he goes quiet suddenly and looks away. Taemin averts his gaze as well. Jonghyun almost stepped into some dangerous territory there. Taemin feels like it might be the same as that time they went to that ice cream shop. “A-anyway,” Jonghyun says quickly. “I’ll, um--I’ll get you my spare key, so you don’t have to wait for me to let you in while you’re here.” He leaves Taemin’s side to go rummaging through the bookshelves around his tv.

Taemin looks around Jonghyun’s floor awkwardly. There’s so much here that he never knew about. Of course he knew that Jonghyun had other interests and hobbies besides him and running the motel, but it’s another thing that he never really thought about. Seeing all of this, watching Jonghyun shuffle through his things, thinking over what he stopped himself from saying… they don’t really know much about each other, Taemin realizes. About their personal lives, their pasts. They just.. haven’t had enough time. And Taemin knows that he, at least, has been too guarded. He trusts Jonghyun; he shouldn’t be so wary of opening up to him.

“Hey, um,” he says, shuffling forward to sink down onto Jonghyun’s couch. Jonghyun hums in question as he continues to look for his spare key. Taemin tugs a pillow over to hold against his chest. “Did you…,” he starts hesitantly. “Did you ever… ask Jinki, about my parents?” He has a feeling that Jonghyun never got around to it. Jonghyun takes a moment to answer--whether it’s because he’s stalling or because he actually found the key, Taemin isn’t sure. Either way, he turns around with a little jingle of the key ring in his hand.

“Um,” he says. “No, I haven’t.” He slips forward to sit next to Taemin on the couch and slip the key into his jacket pocket. Taemin nods, and curls up against the corner of the couch. He wants to… say something, to tell him, but he doesn’t know where to start. Or if Jonghyun wants to hear, knowing that the conversation will probably lead into _his_ private life as well. He opens his mouth to say something, but Jonghyun cuts him off with a quick breath.

“Maybe--maybe later, okay?” he says. “Not tonight--or--not right now.” He wiggles to get between Taemin’s legs and lean up against his back. Taemin would be annoyed at being cut off if Jonghyun didn’t feel so small and tiny in his arms. Maybe he’s just not ready for it right now, so suddenly. Taemin can understand that. He did seem mortified when he accidentally asked Taemin about his parents so suddenly that one time. He wraps his arms around Jonghyun’s waist and watches as he grabs the remote off of the arm of the couch. “Wanna, um,” Jonghyun mumbles, “wanna watch a movie, before we sleep?” He clicks the tv on before Taemin can answer, but Taemin wouldn’t have said no.

If they don’t get around to talking about it tonight, that’s fine, he guesses as he rests his cheek on Jonghyun’s head. They don’t have to rush. As Jonghyun tugs a blanket over them and sighs happily against his shoulder, Taemin relaxes comfortably as well. For once, they can take their time. They can enjoy each other’s company without knowing that they’ll be separated again the next day. Just lounge around together, do nothing, talk about anything else.

They have two weeks.

 

6  
Jonghyun notices him because he’s in the way.

He’s laid out on his stomach in the middle of the lobby floor just to be in the way; he has to be, because he definitely wasn’t there earlier and Jonghyun just started his sweeping a few minutes ago. One second he’s absentmindedly staring out of the front window, and the next he’s almost dropping his broom because there’s suddenly a biker in the middle of the floor. Taemin is lazy, hands curled under his shoulders, and his soft blonde hair is falling into his face.

Jonghyun also notices him because he’s strange. LIke, he’s just lying in the middle of the fucking floor. There is no way that that is comfortable. He sighs, leaning his broom up against the wall and walking over to go look down at his boyfriend.

“Taemin, why are you on the floor?” he asks, nudging his elbow lightly with his toe.

“Why the fuck not?” Taemin mumbles back. Jonghyun rolls his eyes.

“Because it’s dirty?” he suggests.

“Then you’re not doing your job very well, are you?” Taemin says. This time, Jonghyun scoffs. Rude. He just hasn’t gotten to sweeping the area Taemin is on yet. Because he’s in the way.

“Just get up so I can finish sweeping,” he says, reaching down to tug on Taemin’s hands. Taemin takes his hand, but instead of letting Jonghyun help him up, he pulls him weakly down.

“C’mere,” he murmurs, tugging on Jonghyun fingers. Jonghyun squints at him. What. Just lie on the floor with him?

“Taemin, what--”

“Come on,” Taemin insists, wiggling his hand back down under his shoulder. Jonghyun sighs. Fine. He’ll lie on the floor for a little bit. He gets to his knees, and then flattens out to his stomach, curling his arms to copy Taemin’s position. He was right. This isn’t comfortable. He wiggles in a futile attempt to feel less weird, fully aware that anyone could look over and just see him lying in the middle of the floor like this.

“Okay, what?” he asks, quieter now that Taemin is only a few inches in front of him. Taemin blinks slowly, looking perfectly at ease where they are.

“Hi,” he says softly. Jonghyun finds himself sighing in disbelief, closing his eyes with a little shake of his head. Hi. Was that it?

“Hi,” he replies, opening his eyes to raise a brow. Taemin’s lips quirk into a quick little smile before falling back to normal. He looks down at the floor. They stay like that for a few quiet moments; Jonghyun watches his fingers curl into his palm, the way his shoulders shift slightly. He looks at his round cheeks, his plush pink lips, his delicate eyelashes, the sunkissed tone of his skin. He’s so pretty. He’s known Taemin’s face for almost four years, but if he had the time, Jonghyun would stay here for hours just to look at him. He doesn’t have the time right now though, sadly, and he wonders if it’s okay for him to get up as the moments drag on between them. He has floors to sweep, laundry to do, things to take--

“I love you.”

“What?” Jonghyun’s eyes snap back to Taemin’s. He only holds Taemin’s gaze for a split second before Taemin is looking away again, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth. As Jonghyun watches, Taemin’s face quickly goes from it’s regular color to pink, to red, to--Jonghyun doesn’t see more because Taemin suddenly gets up then in the clunkiest way possible.

“Come on, kid, get up, this floor is disgusting,” he’s saying, tugging on Jonghyun’s hands insistently. Jonghyun stumbles to his feet in a daze. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen Taemin blush the faintest pink before, but the glimpses he catches of Taemin’s face as he pushes him almost rudely back to his broom are far passed crimson. He gets his grip on the broom slowly, almost as slow as the smile that pulls up his lips. Taemin loves him.

He loves Taemin; he knows that, has known it for… a long while. He’d just been waiting for Taemin to say it first, because Taemin is the one that’s always so guarded, so detached, so not inherently romantic. And if Taemin had never said it, Jonghyun wouldn’t have been hurt. He knew when he signed on that it would always be a maybe. He knew that he’d never push Taemin into a situation that would make him uncomfortable.

With the way he can practically feel the heat radiating from Taemin’s face as he leans all of his weight on Jonghyun’s back and buries his nose in his shirt collar, Jonghyun thinks he’s already made himself uncomfortable enough. He grins as he readjusts his grip on the broom and continues with his sweeping. Taemin scoots along behind him, hiding in his neck and curling his fingers into his sides. Jonghyun wonders if this is what Taemin felt like when he used to blush all the time, when he still manages to make him flush and stammer.

He’s flushed anyway; he can feel it. He can feel the way his cheeks tingle pink because he can’t keep his smile down. He never knew a simple declaration like that could make him feel so nice. The fact that Taemin trusts him enough, is comfortable enough, cares about him enough to put that out there, makes him practically buzz with a quiet kind of happiness. The kind that makes him want to stop what he’s doing and spend the rest of his day just snuggling Taemin, kissing his soft lips and cherishing this moment forever.

Instead, he just waits for Taemin to stop blushing and rest his chin comfortably on his shoulder with a little sigh of relief, like he’s glad he finally got that over with. Then he pauses in his work to turn his head just enough to press a kiss to his cheek.

“I love you too,” he smiles. Taemin immediately turns bright fucking red again and mashes his face into Jonghyun’s neck. This time, he mumbles a curse and bites his skin almost hard enough to hurt. Jonghyun chuckles softly. He could get used to this.


End file.
